


Wild Winter Roses

by Alex_Stark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Divergence - Tourney at Harrenhal, Conspiracy, Don't Like Don't Read, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Plenty of things changed, Pro Targaryen, Slow Burn, but not so slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26616706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Stark/pseuds/Alex_Stark
Summary: It's my first Rhaegar/Lyanna fic, and as you may know, I'm not a great writer, so sorry if there are mistakes. As you read in the tag it's a canon diverge and therefore plenty of stuff are different.But hope you like it.If there are readers from my other stories, I have made a different edit, because I thought it's more easy to read, but tell me what you think and if I should delete the spaces between lines.
Relationships: Aerys II Targaryen/Rhaella Targaryen, Ashara Dayne/Ned Stark, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 114
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first Rhaegar/Lyanna fic, and as you may know, I'm not a great writer, so sorry if there are mistakes. As you read in the tag it's a canon diverge and therefore plenty of stuff are different.
> 
> But hope you like it.
> 
> If there are readers from my other stories, I have made a different edit, because I thought it's more easy to read, but tell me what you think and if I should delete the spaces between lines.

**_ 281 _ ** **_\- King’s Landing…_ **

After a long and strenuous war, first on the Stepstones and then riven to the lands of Essos, staining it with Blackfire blood, prince Rhaegar returns victorious to his beloved city, under the cheers of his lords, his men and especially the people of Kings Landing

"How does it feels to finally savor, the sweet home, cousin?" Came the strong voice of Robert, son of the late Lord Steffon Baratheon, his father's best friend, who sadly died.

"I thank the Seven for keeping me alive this long, protecting me from the enemy’s blades and giving me the possibility to see my beloved mother again," replied Rhaegar, as he was waving to the crowd in thankfulness.

"Pha. It's not the Seven that you should thank, dear Cousin, but my bloody hammer. It's him the one that saves your ass from the Twin's blades," said Robert starting to laugh from his horse, and the laugh was more of a roar than a normal laugh.

“And you, Robert? Who are you looking forward to seeing again?” asked Rhaegar looking towards his stag cousin.

“The warm thighs and prosperous breasts of a woman," he replied, starting to laugh, and out of the corner of his eye, Rhaegar saw that this reply also made Lord Stark's second son, Eddard, smile. A very quiet and honourable young man. But it was a normal thing considering that he was raised by Lord Arryn. “But above all, I can’t wait to meet my betrothed.”

“You have a betrothed?” asked Rhaegar with a raised eyebrow, remembering that during this war, his cousin has fucked so many women, that Rhaegar lost count.

“Yes. Lyanna stark. A beauty from another world. Wild, smart, and beautiful. A proper lady that will birth my sons,” replied Robert, releasing a roaring laugh, throwing his head behind, before adding in the same laughing way, “You may be King of the Seven Kingdoms one day, but no queen of yours will be like my sweet Lyanna.”

Rhaegar didn’t reply, just keep waving his hand to the crowd, but his mind was now wondering who his future will choose him as a wife. He glanced fro a moment at the young stark, before returning his gaze forward.

When they reached the courtyard of the Red Keep, Rhaegar saw the newly restored order of the Dragonkeepers in line and waiting for him. They usually were the protectors of the Dragonpit, but now they are the protector of the Red Keep it seems. Beside these warriors, some of the Gold Clocks were present too. They all bend the knee when he got down from the horse.

“Well, these ones are ready to please all your needs, it seems,” came Robert’s voice, as he gives him a pat on the shoulder, and Rhaegar nodded.

“Arthur. Give tell some men to show where the unsullied are going to stay. And make sure that they are treated kindly.”

After that, Rhaegar taking a breath headed towards the inside of the place, followed by Robert, the Commander of the Unsullied, Sure Spear, and the Lords that have fought with him in this blooded war.

When he reached the Throne room, the great doors opened, revealing it full of people, lords, and ladies of the Crownlands, starting to cheer him and clamp their hands.

Raising his chin in pried, Rhaegar started to move towards the Iron throne, a monstrous chair made of the swords from the fallen enemies of Aegon Targaryen and forged by Balerion the black dread. A chair that emanates power, glory, and fear. And on which now sits his father, Aerys, Second of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

Next to the throne, on the right side was sitting his beautiful mother, Queen Rhaella with her adorned crown in the head, and a beautiful red dress, with glitter on the black part of the dress., holding his little brother, Viserys who was instead standing.

On the left side of the Iron Throne instead, stands the Small Council Members: The new hand of the King, Lord Owen Merryweather; the Old Gran Maester Pycelle, a man Rhaegar despised and would make sure that he was removed from the Council and maybe from King’s Landing as soon as possible; Master of coin Lord Qarlton Chelsted; Master of laws Lord Symond Staunton; Master of whisperers Lord Varys, a man he didn’t know if he could be trusted; and in the end there was the head of the Alchemy’s guild that was serving his father, Wisdom Rossart, as the king would call him. Then on both sides of the iron throne stood guarding the six remaining Kingsguard since Arthur was with him.

As he was approaching the Iron Throne more and more, his gaze was settled only on his mother, who he had missed so dearly in this long years of war, and that he can’t wait to finally be alone and hug her, and she, on the other hand, was smiling at him.

His father, on the other hand, was sitting inexpressively on the Iron throne, with the crown of Aegon the fourth on his head. It was a large and heavy crown of red-gold, each of its points a dragon’s head with gemstone eyes.

Raising his hand to shoot the crowd, the king slowly clapping, said, “Here came the victorious prince of the Great War who put an end to the born rebellion of the Bloody Blackfyre."

The lords and ladies started to clap again, and Rhaegar, bending the knee, offered the banners of the Golden Company and House Blackfyre, before showing the treasure that he found. “Her is the lost sword of Aegon the Conquer, your grace. Blackfyre. The sword of Kings.”

The king smiled, clapping his hand in approval, and with him, so did the ones who were there. His little brother had an amazing look on his face and on his mother the proudness on her face.

King Aerys rose his hand again to quite the present, saying, “To celebrate this victory and the end of House Blackfire, we are going to make a tourney in the place where House Targaryen rose to power: Harrhenall. Every lord, lady, and commoner will have to be present, to witness the glory and greatness of House Targaryen, and of course to admire the young dragon handling his lance.” Adding the last part in an evil laugh.

And Rhaegar really wondered what his father was plotting now. He dreaded the outcome of whatever it was.

* * *

“I missed you mother,” he said hugging her tightly once he was back to his chambers, before heading to the table filling two goblets of sweat Arbor wine, loving the taste that he was feeling in his mouth.

Offering the other to his mother, who was sitting on one of the chairs, Rhaegar asked, “What is the true reason behind this extended of this invitation and the tourney, mother?”

“I can't tell you. Not before your father arrives here. You know his temper, but trust me, he has a plan,” his mother said.

“He? A plan?” laughed Rhaegar, taking a sip.

“Rhaegar, please. In these four years a lot of things happened. Revelations came out and enemies will soon start to plot. House Targaryen needs to be United, now more than ever.”

Before he could reply, Rhaegar saw his father enter with the usual smirk on his face and without the crown.

“Ah, my beloved wife,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, which confused Rhaegar, “and my heir. I want to speak with you, regarding important matters,” he added, patting his shoulder, which left Rhaegar stunned, and heading to the table to fill himself a goblet of wine.

“Why this tourney, father? I’m sure it's not only because of the victory.”

“Straight to the point just like your mother,” said the king, laughing and sipping from the goblet before sitting in one of the chairs. “But yes. There is more to it. But above all, it is to find you a bride because it’s time for you to marry.”

“And who is the lucky lady that will be forced to spend her life next to me?” asked Rhaegar looking at his mother, in hoping for a new, but it was his father who speaks first.

“You will find very soon who she is, and I’m sure you won't be disappointed,” he replied laughing before getting serious again. “Now. Let's get to the important matter. Pycelle is a traitor working for the Citadel who is planning our downfall since the moment Aegon the dragon conquered Westeros,” his father started but stopping to take some breath and a sip of wine before continuing. “They are behind your mother's miscarriages, and also behind the death of my father and especially the tragedy of Summerhall.”

“And what do you-"

“Don't interrupt me,” his father cut him off with a glare, and Rhaegar shoots immediately his mouth, glancing at his mother for a moment, before refocusing all his attention on his father who keeps speaking. “But the one that has plotted against us the most was someone else.”

“Who?”

“Tywin Lannister,” blurted his father against the edge of the goblet, and that left him stunned. Rhaegar couldn’t believe that Lord Tywin would do something like this, considering the fact, that four years ago he was Hand of the King. “Why would Lord Tywin do this?”

“Fear and power. He wants that whore of his daughter to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms next to you, and he killed Steffon,” his father replied taking a long mug of wine.

“What are you talking about, father. Lord Steffon died in a storm.”

“Tywin bloody Lannister feared that he would have been replaced by Steffon as Hand of the king, and above all, he feared that Steffon would have succeeded in the mission that I assigned him.” A bride, Rhaegar wanted to say but didn't open his mouth.

Taking a sip, Rhaegar asked, “What are you going to do, now that you know these things?”

“Make a trap and lure the lion in there. After that, I will burn him alive. And with him the wrecks that live in that damn citadel and calls themselves the wisest men alive.”

With that, he stormed out the room, leaving a stunned Rhaegar by the revelation. He didn’t know what he should do now. Warn the Lannister and prevent this madness, hoping that he won’t destroy them, or help his father in this?

But remembering that they were behind his sister’s death, behind his mother’s miscarriage, that made her suffer, his blood was boiling and the anger rise.

Taking long breaths to calm himself, Rhaegar remember another important mater, and he needs to ask advice from the wisest woman he knows. So, heading again to the table, to feel his goblet again, but leaning on it, sighing he said. “Mother? I need to tell you something,”

“What is it?” she asked, approaching him and placing a hand on the shoulder.

"I have done something terrible, and that could endanger the throne and our family," said Rhaegar, closing his eyes and feeling his heart beating fast. "If Father finds out-" he stopped without continuing.

"Rhae? You can tell me anything, you know you can trust me," said his mother, stroking his back as a reassurance.

Turning, and heading toward the bed, Rhaegar began. "When we defeated the Blackfyre twins, I headed for the place where the Golden Company used to hide, and found there a woman, dying."

He stopped to take a sip to wet his dry throat, feeling as if he had no breath. "The woman was the wife of one of the Blackfyre and had just given birth to a baby girl."

Leaning forward with his elbows resting on the knees, and stroking his forehead, Rhaegar continued, "I knew the danger that that child was posing to our line and that leaving her alive would endanger our house, but I couldn't do it. I stood there, standing with a dagger in hand, ready to take her life. But I couldn't do it, Mother. Seeing her so small and innocent, with her silver blond hair and her sky-blue eyes, I didn't have the strength to take her life." Looking upwards, he asked, "Do you think I made a mistake in leaving her alive, mother?"

His mother didn’t reply, just was standing there, in silence, and that was the response to his question.

But his mother lowering herself, said, “No, you didn’t.” pulling some strands of hairs behind his ear, and placing the hand on his cheek, she continued, “You didn’t, no mater what your father will say when he finds out. She is innocent, and you are a good man and one day a good King. May I ask where she is?”

“Hidden in King’s Landing and only I know where she is, but of her fate, Eddard Stark is aware too,” he said, though he was sure that the young man will not reveal it. He was honourable. “However, besides the fight with the Golden Company and the Blackfire, during this war a red Priest from Asshai came to visit my camp.”

“And what those fire worshiper wants from my son?” she asked, and he could feel the angriness in her voice.

“She told me that the long night is coming and that the Prince that was promised will be born soon,” he said looking down, not daring to look in her eyes.

Silence dropped over them, as his mother sat next to him for a moment, before sighing, she said, “All the same these witches and priestesses. They want to play with the minds of young people with prophecies and stories.” Getting up again, she started to move away, towards the table to fill her goblet again, saying, “You know, the reason why me and your father married it was because a witch told him the prince that was promised will come from our line.”

“And it is true, mother,” he said, getting up too. “The Red Priest said that besides the snow, she saw a little girl in fire. I think that-“

“She is my daughter?” she asked, turning towards him, with a great hope in her voice, but they were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Yes.”

And turning to the door, he saw Arthur come, and two Unsullieds bring in the chest. “Thank you, Arthur. I hope no one is aware of this.”

“No, my prince.”

The Unsullied put the chest on the floor next to the bed, leaving him alone with his mother, and Arthur too left the room.

“What is in the chest, Rhaegar?” his mother asked, approaching it, and Rhaegar followed her too.

“I didn’t want for father to find out about this, considering how much he loves fire, but when the Golden Company has been defeated, I found one of the most precious treasures on this world.”

Opening it, he saw the mesmerized look on his mother's face, as she was struggling to find the words.

“They are beautiful, aren’t they?”

“It’s not the first time I saw them, but I know the Danger that surrenders them, and especially why you kept them hidden from your father,” she said, taking one in hand, but then placing it back. “My grandfather was obsessed with them and paid the Highest Price. His life. Promise me that you aren’t going to do something stupid, Rhaegar.”

“I won’t,” he replied, though still had every intention to find answers in the books about how to hatch them and maybe make a visit to the Wall, were Aemon was serving since his father has no intention of doing.

“I’m sure you are tired, my son, so I will leave you to rest,” she said, giving a kiss to his forehead, but before she could leave, Rhaegar asked, “Who does he want me to marry, mother?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure we will find out soon.” With that she left him alone in the room, as he went back to the bed, lying on it.

* * *

**_Harrhenal…_ **

****

It was already night when they reached the Lands of the Rivers and more precisely Harrhenal, and now Brandon was in his father's room that was assigned by Lor Whent, with a mug of wine, a fur coat over his shoulders, and fire warming his limbs, while the flames danced, lighting his face.

Taking a sip of wine, Brandon said, "Since we left Winterfell, I've done nothing but wonder, Father, why you agreed to take Lyanna down South. We all know the real reason why the Mad King arranged it despite Lord Whent being the host."

"Maester Wallys advised me not to refuse otherwise it would have aroused suspicion. However, everyone knows that the Prince will marry Cersei Lannister, even if it wasn't official."

"And how do the Maesters intend to break that bond? All of Westeros knows that the King and the Lannisters together will break any rebellion in the build."

His father did not answer immediately, but taking a sip and glancing towards the entrance of the tentacle, he leaned towards him, whispering, "Poison". Before leaning back.

"So, poison is the key?" asked Brandon. Poison was for cravens, women, and Dornishmen.

"Yes. When Cersei Lannister is dead, the blame will fall on the king, and Tywin will declare war. Master Walys assured me that Hightower will side with us, and one of his daughters will marry the young Jaime Lannister," said his father, while taking another mug of wine and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he continues. "This way, that cursed House will fall and Robert will become King, Lyanna Queen, and Lord Arryn, Hand of the King."

Brandon did not answer, but he had this strange feeling that all this will have a bad ending. Not to mention the fact that his sister was still in the dark about all this. Ned himself was unaware of the conspiracy, but another doubt was coming to him, and taking a sip, he asked his father, hoping to clear it off, "Is Lord Baratheon willing to fight against the prince? If I am not mistaken, they are cousins, and above all brothers in arms. They fought against Blackfyre in Essos."

"Yes, he is. But for Lyanna, he is willing to choose our side."

"But he doesn't even know her, Father. How can he say he'll choose a girl instead of his family?"

"Ned told him enough things about Lyanna that the young lord has already fallen in love with her," his father replied, chuckling, finishing his cup and then getting up and filling it again. "However, beyond that, Robert wants to make the brotherhood connection between them even more powerful. And of course, there were enough whispers in his ear for him to blame Aerys for his parents' death."

Brandon laughed when he heard those words, and said against the edge of the cup, "I doubt that his feeling will be returned by Lyanna. You know her," before he drank.

"Yes, and in fact, it is up to you to tell her some laudable words about the young Lord, so that she can fall for him," his father said as he stood up to throw another log into the fire. "But keep out the fact that he already has a daughter and is fond of women and wine."

Like her old brother, Brando wanted to say thinking back to all the virgins he had deflowered, but he refrained from making such a comment, knowing how much his father was against that behavior.

"Now go, my son. Tomorrow we must get up very early to welcome the coming of the King and his retinue."

Brandon nodded, finishing his cup all in one breath, and as he got up, he started to head towards the door, but before leaving, he asked, "What will happen if the King offers you a royal wedding between Lyanna and the prince?"

"Don't worry about that. As I told you, it won't happen. The King trusts Pycelle blindly, and the old Master, according to Walys, advised him to marry him off to Lord Tywin's daughter."

Brandon nodded, leaving the room, but still with a stormy mind. Fuck, it was in these moments that he needed the welcome warm thighs of a woman, but he promised his father not to do anything foolish that could compromise the future of the House and maybe the chances of an alliance with a Southern House.

* * *

Lyanna was lying on her belly in the bed of the room that Lord Whent assigned her when they arrived. It was a beautiful room, but it was waxed with a gloomy air, and the fire itself seemed to be struggling to stay alive. Perhaps it was because of this place being cursed.

The hour was late, but she was still immersed in the book she brought with her from Winterfell, and at this moment she was finishing reading one of them. _‘Lives of Four Kings.’_

In it appears the four Kings that had followed the Dace of Dragon, and that have marked the History of Westeros.

Every time she read this book, Lyanna made a portrait of the young Targaryens in her mind. Handsome young men with their silver-blonde hair waving in the air, some long and others short, wearing shiny armour.

One of them was The Young Dragon. Daeron the first of his name. A boy of her same age, who achieved greatness, conquering what Aegon the Dragon failed.

Suddenly, Lyanna heard a knock at the door and immediately got up to put on a robe and take a dagger, before approaching the door asking, "Who is it?"

"It's me. Ben," she heard her younger brother's thin voice, and so she opened it.

"What are you doing up so late and especially wandering through this castle?" she asked, stepping aside and letting him in.

"I couldn't sleep. This castle is so dark and gloomy that I cannot sleep. It's as if-"

"The ghosts were still here," she finished, approaching the bed. "Don't worry, little brother. I will protect you."

"Protected by the She-Wolf of Winterfell?" he asked with a smile and raising his eyebrow. "I'd say those ghosts will shit themselves." And that made her giggle.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sitting on the bed, and taking the book in his lap, to look at it. "Lives of Four Kings? Are you dreaming about the Young Dragon again?" he asked teasingly.

She blushed at hearing that, knowing perfectly well what her little brother meant, but approaching, and trying to hide the blushing, she said, "Why not? He was young, handsome, charming, a warrior. Any girl would be fascinated, even if he is just a name on a book," she sat on the bed, too, taking the book from his hands.

"Any girl? Even the She-wolf of Winterfell?" he asked teasingly, making her roll her eyes, and snapping, "Yes, even the She-wolf of Winterfell! Why shouldn't I be interested in that?"

"Well, my dear little sister, I haven't seen you very much fascinated by the young sons of the Northern Lords, and-"

"The young sons of the Lords are arrogant pompous, like all those in the South," Lyanna answered, getting up to put the book back in her chest. "It is so easy to fall in love with the heroes from the Books. Or the young Targaryen, like Prince Aemon the Dragonknight."

He was the perfect knight, the perfect prince who defended his sister's honour when it was stained in secret by Aegon the Unlike, a man that Lyanna despised, even though she never meets but only heard and read stories about him. He treated women as if they were things, throwing them away when he was getting bored, and made bastards all over Westeros and beyond. Lyanna hoped that when her time will come and her father will force her to marry, she will not have Queen Naerys, unlike fate, finding herself a whoremonger husband. She hopes that he will be like Prince Aemon, good and honourable.

"Perhaps very soon you will see a real Prince Targaryen in the flesh and blood," said Benjen, bringing her back from those raw thoughts, and she looked at him confused for a moment.

"Prince Rhaegar? Have you forgotten that he will be present at the tourney?" he said, with a grin. Of course, she didn't. But the prince was promised to Lady Cersei Lannister.

"So what?" she asked, trying to sound indifferent. "The Prince is from the south. I doubt he will stop to admire a wild young lady from the north."

"Oh, so the She-wolf of the North wants to be admired by the Dragon Prince?" asked Ben, grinning and teasingly.

"Shut your mouth and go to sleep, little brother," she said, trying to hide the smile that was on her lips and feeling something strange in her stomach a feeling that she had never felt before.

Blowing out the candles, Lyanna lay down next to her brother under the furry blanket, and that night she dreamt of her Dragon Prince. Tall, strong, and charming. And he won the tourney crowning her Queen of love and beauty, with a crown of Winter Rosses.

_Her Daeron._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Harrhenal….** _

Lyanna was in her room, getting ready for the king's arrival, which should be soon. She chose her best dress, with the Direwolf seal embroidered on it; her hairs were down, but she decided anyway to let some braided strands on the side over it, she will wear an overcloak.

As she was looking in the mirror, Lyanna hear a knock at the door and asked who it was, hearing his older brother's strong voice, from the other side. “Come in.”

Her brother was wearing a tunic with the Direwolf embroidered on it, and a fur cloak over his shoulders. His hairs were tied in a bun, and his beard was treated. She was sure that he was ready to claim some southern maiden ready to be deflowered, and she felt sick by this his behavior.

“Good Morning, little sister,” he greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, before heading to the bed to sit. Since there wasn’t wine in her room, only water, he didn’t head straight to the table, but she was sure he has already drunk some goblets before getting ready. “I wanted to speak with you, before meeting the King and his retinue.”

“What is it?” she asked, sitting next to him on the bed.

She saw him struggling for a moment to find the right words, and that annoyed her, considering that usually he bluntly and straight to the point, but now he wasn’t.

Looking around, his gaze settled on the iron jug that contained the water, getting up, he went to fill a goblet, and with a breath, he drank all the contents, murmuring a "Fuck!' and then asking looking down, "Have you received any letters from Ned recently, Lya?”

“Besides the one of his return? No. Why I should have had?” she asked almost chuckling. “I’m sure Ned was quite busy during these years fighting against the Blackfyre and their allies.”

She saw him, beating his lower lips, for a moment, before passing his hand over his beard, saying, “Fuck! I will go straight to the point. Father has started the negotiations for your wedding.” And adding the next part very fast, that she barely understood, “Or to be more precise, everything is ready, and the wedding will take place in a moon.”

“What did you say?” asked Lyanna thinking she heard wrong.

“You heard me clearly, Lya,” he said, giving her the knowing look. Sighing he approaches her, and sitting on the bed he said, “I know what you are thinking at the moment, but he is a good man,” taking her hand and trying to reassure her, but Lyanna pulled immediately away, feeling betrayed. And getting up she moved away.

She couldn't believe that they already arranged this and especially behind her back. She didn't expect it. She didn't expect at all that her dear father would plan all this without informing her before. She was ready to go straight to her father's room, and demand some explanation, but Brandon stopped her by grabbing her upper arm, “Wait, Lya.”

“I want an explanation from him, Brandon. I deserve them. He promised me that he wouldn't do this before talking to me, but now I found that he had already done them!” she shouted, freeing her arm from his grip, and heading to the bed. Sitting, she pulled up her knees, and wrapping her arms around them, buried her face, starting a silent cry.

“Lya,” her brother said, starting to stroke her back over her hair. “You know that he loves, little sister and that he is doing this for your own good.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, making her head lean on his chest. “Robert is a good man, Lya. He will treat you kindly, respect you, and-“

“Who?!” she asked immediately rising up and looking at him in the eyes.

“Lord Robert of House Baratheon. He is the Lord of Storm’s End and-“

“I know who he is. He grew up with Ned in the Vale under Lord Arryn’s care, and has fought with the Prince and Ned on the Stepstones,” she said.

“See, he is just like one of those heroes from your books. Your Targaryen Kings,” Brandon said smiling, and cleaning her tears with his thumb, “What was his name? Fuck, I don’t remember.”

“Daeron the Young Dragon. But he didn’t fuck women at every corner,” she said getting up and heading towards the window with her head full of different thoughts and scenarios. She heard how some ladies and servants whisper about him, and about his skills in bed.

“Where did you hear those lies?” he asked immediately and that was only confirming her worries and suspicions. Robert Baratheon was a bad man, just like Aegon the Unworthy. But turning towards her brother, Lyanna replied, in a confident way, “Doesn’t matter how I know this, but the worriedness in your voice only confirms my suspicions.”

He, sighing, approach her, “I told father that this wouldn’t work. You are too cleaver to believe the lies that I would tell you, not that I know how to lie.”

“Spit it up, Brandon,” she said, angrily turning towards him.

“Fuck!” her brother cursed under his breath, before stroking his beard, and saying. “He has a three and half years old daughter in the Vale, from a peasant woman.”

“So, father wanted to sell me to a whoremonger!” Lyanna shouted, making an angry gest with her arms.

“Don’t say this Lya. Father loves you and wants only the best for you. Robert is a good man and having a child before marrying doesn’t make him a whoremonger.”

“Once a whoremonger always a whoremonger!” shouted Lyanna with tears in the eyes, sitting on the floor next to the bed, pulling up her knees and hugging them, as she starts to sob. She didn’t want a life like did, like what Queen Naerys lived. A life chained to a man that the only things he will love would be drink, hunt, and whoring, especially whoring.

“Lya,” her brother said softly, but she pushed him away.

“Leave, Brandon! Go away and leave me alone!” she said between sobs, and sighing her brother left.

Now that she was alone, Lyanna laid on the floor in a curled position, sobbing. Her life would be over in a moon from now. Her life will end, chained to a whoremonger man.

* * *

**_On the King’s Road…_ **

They were only a few miles away from Harrhenal, and for every mile they traveled, Rhaella could see the restlessness on the king's face, even though she did not know whether it was anxiety in meeting the lords, to unmask them, or anger caused by the recent discoveries. Surely Duskendale changed him completely, in many aspects, and she did not know if it was in good or in bad.

But what she was grateful of, in this new change was that he no longer abuses her. After the revelation that it was Pycelle to make her lose the babies and especially the one to poison them, he went back to the carrying brother that she knew when Shaena died when he comforted her for the first children she has lost.

Remembering her dead daughter, Rhaella felt her blood boil, and her anger rise. She will be the one to burn Pycelle alive when the right moment will come and fuck lords and Westeros if they will call her the Mad Queen. He needs to pay and suffer for what he did to her children.

“Why so thoughtful, my queen?" Aerys asked and offered her a goblet of wine, which she took, although she was not a great lover of it, but with Aerys it was better to please him. "Well?"

“Was thinking about Pycelle. I want to burn him alive for what he did to our children.”

“To our children, to our parents, and with him the Lannister will go down,” Aerys said with venom, sitting next to her, as the wheelhouse was moving and making him lose balance. Rhaegar and his companions were riding on horses, but the king decides to ride with her and Viserys. He said it was to make think the lord that he was weak. “Tywin Lannister will pay for what he did to Steffon.”

“You trusted Steffon, but why don't you trust his son?" she asked taking a sip.

“Pha. Who? That mad stag that our son calls a brother in arms. He will stab us in the back the moment it benefits him the best.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Rhaella, don't force your little head into things you can't understand,” he said.

She knew that she should not push for this argument to continue, since he could very well burst in anger and mistreat her like in the past, but being bolder now and since she showed him that she was on his side, Rhaella said, “I thought we are on the same side in this, and that now you trust me. “

“Oh, I trust you sweet Rhaella, and I think now that Steffon is dead you are the only one that I can trust but understanding this goes beyond your intelligence.”

“Oh, don't worry about my intelligence, brother. I can understand many things that you would think I don't.”

“You are starting to get bolder, sister. Maybe you forget that I’m the king and you only a queen consort.”

“Oh, I never forgot that your grace,” she replied, placing the hand on his thigh, trying another approach to get her answers. Starting to raise her hand up towards his manhood she said, “I thought when we found out the truth, we decided to be together in this. As one.”

“Using seduction won't make you get the answer,” he said grabbing her jaw and looking in the eyes. It was a dangerous thing the one she was doing since he could burst at any moment, and she knew it.

“Are you sure, my king?” she asked placing her hand on his manhood, making him jolt, before continuing, “As far as I know, that's the easiest way to get answers from a man.”

Silence dropped over them as she rubbed her hand on it, feeling him grow harder, but he, stopping her, said, “You are clever, sweet sister, but not as clever as you think.”

She said nothing to that withdrawing her hand, not wanting to insist. She was defeated in this argue, however before she could move away, he grabbed her arm, saying, “I did not say that I wasn't going to fuck you.”

“I don't think this is the best place for that, my king. And our son is lying a few inches from us,” she said, trying to change his mind on this, though she knew it was for nothing.

“Oh, but you can still suck me,” he said, opening his robe. “I’m sure the boy will understand that it's a wife's duty what you are doing.”

She didn't reply, only swallowed before bending down. However, before starting, she asked, “What is the real reason behind the tourney?”

* * *

**_Harrhenal..._ **

All the lords that have come were gathered in the great yard of this massive fortress to welcome the king. There were the hosting House, lord Whent, his wife, his sons and his daughter, a real beauty and still a maiden, who was the queen of love and beauty of the tourney before someone else will be crowned.

Then there were all the other lords from the Riverlands, including Hoster Tully with his only daughter, Lysa, since Catelyn, who was the woman he was supposed to marry, died recently, and of course, there was that fool of his son, Edmure.

Then there were some of the main lords from the Stormlands, who were waiting for Robert of course. HE himself couldn't wait to meet his future brother in law and maybe put to test his skills as a warrior.

And there was Dorne, or to be precise some of them. Princess Elia, still unwed, but there were whispers regarding her imminent marriage, though he didn’t know to who since some whisper said she was going to marry a sea Lord, other that she would marry Baelor Hightower. Brandon won’t deny that she was a beautiful woman, and if her land had something to offer, he may have proposed her as a match for him, but anyway, he didn’t know who he will marry. The Princess was accompanied by her cunt of a brother, Oberyn, then the Yronwood, and Ashara Dayne, whose beauty didn’t go unnoticed to Brandon.

The only ones who were late were the Lannister and the lords from the Reach, it seems. He didn't expect for the great Tywin Lannister to came so late. He thought that he would try to make an alliance.

Glancing at his father, Brandon asked, “What is with that sour face, father? We aren't going to war.”

“With the mad king you never know when you are at peace or war,” replied, making him chuckle, hand heard him ask, “Did the meeting with Lya went so bad?”

Before Brandon could give an answer, they could hear a commotion from the gates and saw them coming. The knights that were holding the three heads dragon banner, followed by a group of men, wearing suits of gleaming black armour, with their helms crested by a row of dragon scales that continued down their backs, diminishing downwards. After them, he saw three Kingsguard riding on, in their shining white armour and the emblem of the dragon on their chest. Followed immediately by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, Robert Baratheon, and his brother Ned, that Brandon couldn't wait to hug again, or give a pack on the shoulder. After that, he saw the great carriage dragged by 6 horses, where inside there was the Queen the King and maybe Prince Viserys.

When they all stopped and climbed down, Brandon saw the door of the carriage open and came out the king. Everyone bends the knee immediately, and Brandon could see, looking under the eyebrows the king stretch before approaching the hosting lord.

“Harrhenal is your, my king,” said Lord Whent.

“Yes, yes. You may rise,” he said loudly, and Brandon now looked better at him. The story didn't give him justice, it seems since they were saying that he had long nails and yellow fingers, long hairs and beard, but what he was seeing was something else.

Then Brandon’s eyes fell on the queen, still very beautiful, who has her hairs down, treated but some locks braided. She was wearing a dress with the colour of House Targaryen and a fur cloak over her shoulder with the same colour. Next to her, the queen was holding the little prince's hand, a spitting image of his brother, as she approached lord Whent to greet him.

“Well, well, well, I see that you decide to pull the head out of the snow, Stark,” the king said, approaching, and turning to him, the King said, “You must be the one that the ladies call the Wild Wolf, eh?”

Brandon smiled but cursing in his mind this fool of a king. He couldn't wait for the moment when will come to crown a worthy one. Someone like Robert.

“I see your two sons but not your daughter, Lord Stark. May I ask where she is?”

His father was confused by that and so was Brandon, but never less replied, “She wasn't feeling well your grace. I beg your forgiveness for that.”

“Yes, yes, I hope she will feel better during the tourney,” the king replied, with a smirk on his face, moving away. 

Then it come to the queen, and her father kissed her hand before she moved away. He could feel a coldness behind her, though, and judgment eyes. He wondered what she has, considering that the tales have always described her of good her, gentle, and of course warm.

“Lord Stark,” greeted them the young prince, drawing his attention from the queen. “I’m sorry if my father offended you with his words.”

“It was nothing, my prince,” his father said and the young prince, smiled, moving away. “What a buffoon,” murmured Brandon as his brother, Ned, approached them and he saw him looking at the crowd behind, for sure in searching of their sister, Lya.

“Father,” he great their Lord father with a hug, before turning his attention to him, “Brandon.”

“I see you're in good shape, little brother," said Brandon, laughing. "The war has benefited you, it seems." Receiving a sad chuckle from Ned, but before they could continue, the stag and Lord Arryn, approached them.

“Ah, Lord Stark. A pleasure to finally meet you,” the Lord of Storm’s End said, with a smile on his face. Damn, he was tall at least six and half feet, of pure muscle, with hair black and blue eyes, like the Targaryens. In a fight, Brandon was sure that how couldn’t win against the Stag, not even in a fistfight. Well, Lyanna has nothing to complain about. She got the best of the best from her stories with the Stag. For sure he is handsome than that little cunt of the Prince.

“Lord Baratheon,” his father clapped the arms with the young sad, “Where is your daughter Lyanna. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Oh, she too can’t wait to meet her. In fact, since we left Winterfell, has done nothing but ask about you,” his father replied, lying of course, but that lie seems to bring a huge laugh from the Stag. “But sadly, she isn’t feeling well do day.”

“Oh. Well, let’s get inside to drink and talk,” the Lord replied.

* * *

_**Evening…** _

The feast for the king's arrival was rich lively and loud, with lords drinking, talking, and eating. And of course, those who were loudest were those of the King. His father sat at the big table, with his mother the queen, Lord Whent, and his wife.

This feast was only the first one that Lord When intending to with the approval of the King of course. He still couldn’t understand why he did this, especially secretly. Yes, it was a trap to lure Tywin Lannister out, but the lion of the Rock wasn’t her yet, and neither his daughter nor son who according to whispers he should have been betrothed to Lysa Tully. Toning, he wasn’t also in the mood to sing a song for the ladies, but maybe tomorrow, at the feast, he will sing a song.

His eyes then drifted to his cousin Robert who was kissing and groping a servant. What a disrespectful thing to do in front of Stark, but who doesn't see to mind it seems. The older stark brother was even laughing.

As he was looking around, Rhaegar’s eyes felt on a hooded girl near the entrance and whose presence it seems was unnoticed by those who were present, too drunk, or immersed in their conversations. Or in the case of his father, watching the lords and expecting a plot from them.

Despite the hood that covered her head, Rhaegar could notice how beautiful she was. Long brown hairs he could glimpse.

For a few moments, Rhaegar looked at her and realized that her gaze was fixed on someone inside the Great Hall. Robert Baratheon to be precise, and who was groping a servant girl, at the moment. Of course, she was looking at him. He was the epithet of the perfect rude warrior, that some women love. Or to be more precise his look.

But when she looked away from Robert and caught his gaze, Rhaegar felt a strange thing as he looked into her eyes. Something he had never felt before. And because of him thinking too much in his thoughts, the girl disappeared. But Rhaegar, looking first around and finding the perfect moment to leave the feast. This will give him the possibility to take air and be away from the lusting eyes of the ladies that were craving him.

Once outside Rhaegar took a long breath, feeling the cool air of the night fill his lungs, before releasing a sigh.

“Too much wine, my prince?” he heard a voice say, and turning around he saw that it was Eddard Stark, who was leaving the feast it seems. And right behind him, came the youngest of the Stark.

“I need some fresh air,” he replied looking around the courtyard in search of the hooded girl. “And you?”

“Wanted to go to visit the northern camp,” Eddard stark replied. 

“You must be Benjen Stark,” Rhaegar said, looking at the young boy, who smiling nodded giving a bow, and Rhaegar chuckled. “There is no need for that.” Then turning to the other brother, Rhaegar said, “Aren't you offended by his behavior?”

He caught the meaning behind his question and to who he was referring too, and replied, looking down, “Trying to stop him from groping or lying with the servants, would do nothing, we both know. But I’m sure that once he is married to her, he will become loyal and faithful to Lyanna.”

Rhaegar looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but the young stark bowed, leaving and heading towards the main gates.

* * *

Lyanna was walking through the camp of her father's bannerman, with a dagger at her hips, and wandering her looks around. Some men were drinking telling stories around a bonfire.

Suddenly, as she was walking, Lyanna hear laugh and noises coming from a tent that was near her, and immediately approach, seeing one of the bannermen of her father being mistreated, by three men. He was on the ground and the three young men were hitting him.

Lyanna pulled the hood immediately down, as she run at them, shouting, “That’s my father’s men you are kicking!” Knocking down one of them, and grabbing the wood stick from another, hitting them too. They weren’t knights as she could clearly see. And once the three squires were kicked, they run away.

Turning to the young lord, whose name was Howland reed, Lyanna helped him up and move towards the tent of the Crannogmen.

“Why aren’t you at the King’s feast?” Lyanna asked, filing a bucket of water, and wetting a cloth, before starting to treat the lord’s wounds.

“I’m a Crannogmen, my Lady, the southern don’t like my people. And I don’t want to be there anyway,” the Lord replied, as she wet the cloth again. “And you, my Lady? Why are you here and not at the feast?”

Lyanna stopped for a moment, thinking of what to say. To lie or say the truth? She supposes, should said the truth, and return to the lord, she said, “This morning, my brother brought me the hateful news that I will soon have to get married. And a few moments ago, I saw that man groping a servant girl. Which I’m sure will fuck this night, or maybe even now he is fucking her.”

“I’m sorry. What is his name?”

“Robert Baratheon,” she replied, though didn’t go unnoticed to hear the sarcasm in his voice when he asked. “But may I ask why you are here, my lord. You don’t like the southern, you don’t like their feast and I’m sure you don’t like their tourney, so may I ask why you are here?”

“To bear witness to a song.”

“A song?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “And may I ask what song that is?”

“It’s the Song of Ice and Fire, my lady. A song old as this world, and that started to be forgotten. But soon it will be revived.”

“And I beat it will be Prince Rhaegar Targaryen the one to sing it,” she said chuckling and feeling her heart start to beat fast. She still remembers when she caught the prince's eyes before running away, all blushing and embarrassed. But she should forget that feeling she had at that moment. The man was betrothed to the Lioness of Castely Rock, and the only thing that was missing was the official announcement from the King.

“Yes, he will,” replied the lord, making Lyanna laugh, but before she could jokingly reply, they got interrupted by her brother, Ned, “What is happening here?”

“Ned. Already tired of the feast?” asked smiling, and teasingly.

“Wanted to get out and take some fresh air.”

“Of course, you wanted. Because you at a feast it’s like a wolf in a cage,” said Lyanna, jokingly, making her brother Benjen, who was right behind, giggle.

“Lord Reed? What happened to you?” asked Ned, approaching the man.

“An unpleasant meeting with three southern squires,” replied the lord, wrapping his arms around his body.

“Did you saw the emblems?” her brother asked.

“I did,” replied Lyanna. “Frey, Blount, and Haigh. We should help lord reed in taking his revenge against those pompous and arrogant squires, by humiliating the knight they are serving.”

"Yes. Lya is right. You should challenge them in the jousting lists," Benjen suggested in excitement.

Howland Reed frowned, and she saw him considering it, but in the end, sighing he replied, "I cannot ride a horse with ease, and I've never practiced with a lance. I should not bring shame on my people."

“Ned. You should challenge them,” she said turning to her older brother, who immediately shook his head.

“I would gladly teach them a lesson, Lya, but we all know how it will end. The King would know that I’m the knight and he would most likely see that as a strike to him.”

“It should be you Lya,” said Benjen confidently. “You ride better than ned anyway.”

“Have you lost your mind, Ben? She will get hurt if she does.”

“Your brother is right, my lady. I couldn't bear it if you were hurt while defending my honor."

“She won’t. She will win, and she will be all right,” replied Benjen, eagerly, and she agreed with him.

“I need an armour, and horse,” she said, giving Ned the look that she knew, her brother could not resist and especially deny her anything.

Sighing, her older brother nodded, “I ill find you an armour-“

“And I will find you a horse. The best horse,” said his little brother eagerly. “And you will kick those southern asses.

She laughed at that hugging her brother, and hearing a groan, turned around, seeing Lord Reed get up, and give her a shiny bronze scale, triangle dangling from a piece of thread.

“A favor from the Neck, my lady. You won't find anything luckier than a crannogmen's token," he promised.

* * *

**_Next day...first day of the tourney..._ **

****

“Are you sure you want to do this, Lyanna?” her brother Ned asked as Benjen was starting to help her wear the armour for the jousting.

“Well, someone needs to put in place those pompous and arrogant squires, and since no one of you wants to do, then I should take the lead.”

Her brother sighed, saying, “It’s not that I don’t want to take the parts of Lord Reed, it’s just that the King would know that it’s me the one to joust if I’m missing from our seat. The same would go for Brandon and for Benjen since he has already met us.”

Lyanna added nothing else, but she heard Lord Reed say, "You don't have to do this, my lady."

"Nonsense, Lord Reed. I am not afraid of them," Lyanna replied, wearing the helmet and leaving the tent.

* * *

“A great host of young sons of the lords around here, don't you agree, Ser Gerold?" said her husband the king, looking at the crowd of knights who were on the field ready to joust and win, to crown their beloved as the queen of love and beauty.

“Indeed, your grace. And maybe one of them may join the ranks of the Kingsguard,” replied the Lord Commander, receiving only an annoying noise from the king. Rhaella knew who he wanted to rise to the rank of the Kingsguard. Jaime Lannister. He wanted to take from Tywin Lannister the most precious thing before striking, he had said, but it seems that the old Lion has outplayed him on this, and Rhaella wasn’t surprised.

However, although his son was not here, his daughter, Cersei, was, and Rhaella could see the lust in her eyes towards her son Rhaegar. The girl was pure evilness and she was sure that will try to use everything she can to reach her goals.

The knights to open the Joust were the one of Lord Whent who defended their sister’s honor as Queen of love and beauty. They took their position and started to joust under the cheers of the crowd, and Rhaella didn’t miss the eager look her little boy, Viserys, had on his face. He always had been fascinated by this, more than Rhaegar at his age, but nevertheless, he was looking at his brother as a model figure to follow and she hoped that it would be that way, but the future was always uncertain.

Lord Whent sons got unhorsed easily by the southern knights from the Reach and by those from the vale who were far better rider than them.

Then it comes the time of Rhaegar to ride, and her heart was beating fast, as he charged at the opponent, Bronze Yohn, a man older and bigger than Rhaegar. She covered her eyes for a moment only to open them after the clash, seeing the old Lord on the ground, and her son smiling at her.

Rhaella released a sigh, smiling, and heard Viserys say eagerly, _“Muña, muña. Rhāegār ērinagon."_

_“_ Yes _, ñuha zaldrītsos._ Your brother won _,”_ she said, smiling, and looking at the young ladies who were cheering for the Dragon Prince.

* * *

**_A few hours later…_ **

After his victories of today, Rhaegar sat with his family on the stands, awaiting the next knight to joust. When the crowd started cheering, his gaze drifted to the side where the knight entered and heard whispers from the lords that were present, asking between themselves who this Mysterious knight was.

The knight wore a patchwork of ill-matched armour, no two pieces forged of the same steel, that sagged crudely over his slight frame. On his arm was a freshly-painted shield, bright with the image of a red-and-white Weirwood, its face curved with bleeding laughter. And Rhaegar started to wonder who this knight maybe. A young son of a lord, or maybe the famed Jaime Lannister who even though wasn’t officially present here, may have come in secret.

Stopping before the gathered knights on the side, the mysterious knight boldly pointed his cheap lance to three of them who Rhaegar clearly could recognize. They belong to Houses Frey, Haigh, and Blount. Cheers rang sharply in the stands, the people hungry for the mysterious knight's challenge.

Once the knight took their position, the flag waved and they charged at each other, dust flying up from the ground in plumes of red-brown. The tip of the mystery knight's lance forced its way into Ser Frey's chest, sending him flying backward in a swift moment. An easy victory against a weak opponent. The Frey weren’t known for their warrior skills, more likely for their ridiculous huts and the many women their Lord had.

The Frey brought forth his horse for ransom, but the Knight of the Laughing Tree cleared his throat, affecting his voice in a parody of deep tones and announced, "I do not want your ransom, knight. All I ask is that you teach your squire honor!"

Rhaegar could see a frown on the Frey’s face, but he took his horse, all the same, rounding on his frightened, squire. And now he wondered what all this is about, but he was that soon he will find.

The next knight that the Knight of the laughing Tree was facing bore the name and the colors of House Haigh, with the same outcome, although the Knight of the mysterious knight broke three lances against him before Haigh finally fell. When presented with his ransom, the Knight of the Laughing Tree declined once again and making the same request. Teach his knight honor. His father was starting to get restless about this, and murmuring loud enough, of treason and plots.

After this only one knight remained. The one from House Blount who, unlike the others, was of an impressive size, at least six feet tall and large in the shoulders and stomach. His armour was made to fit, to protect, and would serve him all the better for it.

Next to him, the Knight of the Laughing Tree looked small, an imp amongst giants. They bowed before the royal box, then galloped their separate ways, each readying themselves at their respective tilt ends. The flag waved, and the knights charged each other in a speed of dust. The mysterious knight's lance hit Ser Blount's chest.

The knights went back to their ends, waiting for the signal. This time, the mysterious knight's was much slower in thrusting his lance forward than the enemy and paid for it dearly when Ser Blount's lance swayed downward and slammed firmly into the ribs of the mystery knight, the lance shattering in a rain of wooden shards from the force of impact.

The crowd gasped at that, before being followed by wild cheers when the Knight of the Laughing Tree remained seated on his horse, though now considerably less straight. He trotted to his end of the tiltyard, slipping into position, as Blount was given a new lance.

Rhaegar had to give credit to this young knight who resisted an opponent much stronger than him. An event quite known around Westeros of the past when Ser Barristan faced his own at the age of ten, and of which stories Rhaegar was always fascinated.

When the flag waved again, the mystery knight surged forth on his horse, thighs tight around its body as they approached Ser Blount. The hooves were as loud as thunder, and when the Knight of the Laughing Tree guided his lance into the chest plate of his opponent, he emerged victoriously. The Knight of the Laughing Tree hunched over painfully on his horse as he took his victory, coming to a stop in front of the royal box, as the porcupine knight laid on the dirt ground.

The King, on the other hand, got up, and loudly said, “Will you show your face, mystery knight, so that the realm may witness your victory.”

The Knight shook his head in refusal, and after a bow, he rode away, with the king fuming in anger, a turning to him he said, “Go and find who this Knight is. Then bring me his head.”

* * *

After what happened on the field against the three knights, and hearing about the King’s wrath, Lyanna rode immediately to the Godswood to get rid of the armour before anyone finds out that she was the Knight of the Laughing Tree.

Lyanna started to pull down one by one the pieces of the armour, starting from the shield, then moving to the legs, but the most difficult part was the shoulders protections.

As she finally removed the arms protectors, Lyanna heard a laughing of man voice, say, “Well, well, well, what we have here? A mare ready to be mounted.” She grabbed the dagger that she was carrying.

Turning around she saw at least six men, quite drunk, with swords at their hips but that apparently had no emblem embroidered on their tunics.

She looks at all of them, trying to find a way out but didn't know-how. If she had a sword, she may have a chance, but right now. She was sure that she didn't have.

“Who are you who dares to attack a defenseless girl?” Came a male voice from behind them, and two swords unleashed. As they turned around, she glimpsed the sight of a man with silver-blonde hairs. The Prince. He found her.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man asked, and it seems that he didn’t recognize the Crown Prince.

“Who the fuck am I?” asked the voice of the man that came to help her. “Well, I think you will never find it.”

“Kill this fucker, boys,” said one turning his attention back to her, and Lyanna picking the shield from the ground and with the other, holding her dagger, she took her position.

When one of the men charged at her, he was immediately hit by a horse, and then immediately came another one, and Lyanna recognizes them as members of the Kingsguard.

When the leader charged at her, Lyanna immediately paired with the shield and being quicker than him, managed to stab him in the neck at the same time.

Looking around, she saw that all of the men were dead, and her savior approached her. Prince Rhaegar of House Targaryen with his fellow companion, who, after having cleaned their swords, removed their helmets.

“Are you all right, my lady?” asked the prince with his beautiful voice, as he cleaned his sword, which she recognized as valyrian steel, of the blood.

Lyanna was so enchanted by the young Prince, that she could find her voice to reply. He looked so much like the Targaryen she read in the book. When the wind raised for a moment, his beautiful silver hairs waved in the air, making him even more handsome in her eyes.

But when his eyes fell on the shield, that she was carrying and Lyanna heard him ask in disbelieve, “You are the Knight of the laughing tree?”


	3. Chapter 3

**_Harrenhal..._**

Lyanna was frozen in her place, with widened eyes, and holding her side, as the young Dragon Prince was looking at her with those beautiful purple eyes, and that were indigo in a different light, considering the fact that when last night their gaze meet they were the later.

“You are the Knight of the laughing tree?” he asked, but she didn't respond. Lyanna didn’t know what will happen if she tells him who she is, and considering the fact that the king, his father, wants the Knight of the laughing tree dead, she wasn’t taking that risk.

Turning to those who accompany him, the young Prince said, “Ser Arthur, Ser Oswalt, please give me a moment alone with the lady,” but never looking away from her, and that made her look down. She heard one of the two Kingsguard objects in a quiet voice, but the prince shouted them down with a look, and they left. Now it was only him and her there. Near the heart tree of the Godswood, and with her heart that was beating fast.

“Who are you, my lady?” He asked, sheathing the sword back, and approaching her, but Lyanna didn’t respond again. “You, know my lady, the King sent me to find the Knight of the laughing Tree, and bring him back the head.”

“Then here is your answer to why I don’t tell you my name,” she said, tightening the grip on her dagger, but at the same time squeezing her teeth because of the pain she was feeling at her side.

“You are wounded, my lady. Let me inspect it.”

“So, you can take my dagger and arrest me?” she replied pointing the weapon at him. The prince on the other hand, smiled, looking down, “I’m not going to arrest you, my lady, and I’m not even going to hurt you. I just want to look at your wound.”

She looked at him for a moment, pondering what to do, but in the end, she nodded, and sighing, sat on the ground, with the back resting against the tree, releasing a groan of pain. The prince knelt too, next to her immediately, and move his hands to the laces of the breastplate, but she immediately pushed him away.

“If I wanted to do what you are thinking right now, my lady, I would have already done it a long time ago,” said the prince, chuckling, and she allowed to help her get out of the armour, but making her yelp at every movement. She saw him smirk, and that made her very angry. “There is nothing funny, prince.”

“You fought three knights that were bigger than you, knowing perfectly that you may get injured, but now that you are, you complain.”

“Well, you would complain too, if you were hurt!” She snapped, and without even using his title. Lyanna tended immediately at seeing him serious, but when she wanted to ask forgiveness, the prince burst out in laughs and that made her laugh too.

“Now, my lady, I would ask you to rise your tunic so I can see it,” the prince said, and she became red, looking down. Taking a long breath, she peeled the hem of her tunic up just enough to reveal where the lance had connected with her body. Her ribs were stained a myriad of colours: yellow, blue, brown, and purple. The bruise from the impact was an angry, massive thing, spanning over the expanse from her ribs to her hip.

The prince prodded the ridges of her ribcage gently inspecting the wound, and she could feel his warm hands against her sweeten skin. "Nothing seems to be broken," he told her, looking up. His face was mere inches from her, and she gulped, glancing between his eyes and his lips, before doing something that she never expected she would do. She kissed the prince without even knowing.

Realizing what she has done, Lyanna pulled immediately away, with widened eyes, and feeling her heart start to beat fast, even faster than before. “I'm sorry, my Prince. I don't know what got in me.”

“No. Don't be. You have done nothing wrong, my lad-“

“Lyanna,” she cut him before finishing but never looking up. Her cheeks were hot and red for sure, the heart was beating fast and her mind confused. She couldn't believe that had the courage to kiss the prince. And even without his consent.

“Lady Lyanna stark?” he gasped her name, leaning back, with widened eyes, and therefore giving her the possibility to push her shirt back down.

Now the situation between them was very uncomfortable, as silence dropped over them, with the only thing that was breaking it was the rustling of the leaves, caused by the winds that were blowing from the North.

Clearing his throat, the prince said, “Come, my lady. The sun is getting down and you need to go back to your chambers and get some rest,” and helping her up, making her yelp. Pulling one arm over his neck and placing one of his on her waist, the prince called for his Kingsguard, “Arthur. Oswell. Come.”

Lyanna in the meantime was gripping her shield, and looking around, asked, “Where is my horse?”

“He run away, my lady,” replied the prince before turning his attention back to the Kingsguard, “Hide the armour and don't speak a word about what happened here.”

At hearing that, Lyanna looked up at the prince asking, “what do you mean by heading?” and at the same time squeezing the shield to her belly.

“The king wants your head, my lady. So, to protect you, we need to hide the profs. You will need to give me the shield as a proof and I will tell him that I didn't find the knight.”

Lyanna looked at her shield, for a moment not wanting to part from it. She got quite attached to this precious object that is a proof of her participating in the joust and knocking the lords, not only a dream.

Placing the hand under her chin and lifting it up, the prince said, looking her in the eyes, “When my father will leave for King’s Landing and the tourney is over, I will make sure that the shield is returned back to you.”

“Truly?” she asked with, feeling tears in her eyes at seeing him nod. And so, giving one last look to the shield, with the painting of a white Weirwood with a laughing red face, Lyanna give it. To the prince as they started to move towards the horse.

“With whom I will ride?” she asked since her horse run away.

“With me,” the prince replied, and her heart almost stopped. She has never ridden with someone else on a horse, much less with a prince of horse Targaryen.

His horse, a tall and big war stallion, with black mane, bend down, and the prince without little effort lift her up, placing her on the horseback, before climbing behind her and wrapping his hands around her middle. Lyanna instinctively leaned back against his broad chest and feeling a certain security in that position.

They were riding for a few moments, but Lyanna already felt uncomfortable in the situation. It wasn't really the situation itself that made her uncomfortable, but rather the man that was behind her. She had dreamed a lot of riding on a horse with her sweet king Daeron, but that were only dreams, she never expected that one day she was going to ride on the Dragon prince's horse and with him behind her.

“What is it my lady?” he asked, bringing her back from the dreams.

“Lyanna. I told you that you can call me Lyanna.”

“I doubt that it would be appropriate considering the fact, you are the daughter of a Warden of the North and above all, a woman already promised.”

“So, you know?” she asked, glancing behind, and their lips were dangerously close

“Yes. Robert told me when we returned from the war. He said that everything is already planned and-

“Nothing is planned until I agree!” Lyanna snapped, cutting him off, turning her gaze back forward and heard the prince chuckle behind her, which unnerved her.

“You are a true daughter of the North, my lady. Wild and defying.”

“Call me lady again and I may stick that pretty sword you care at your hips into your pretty skull.”

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?”

“I said that the sword is,” she replied immediately, but heard him whisper anyway, “I thought you said that you are going to stick the sword in my pretty skull.”

“You heard wrong,” she lied, looking down, however, knowing perfectly that he had a grin on his face.

* * *

After had given the shield and the news regarding the knight of the laughing tree to his father, who burst in a rage, Rhaegar left the great hall under the screams and shouts of the king, cursing the mystery knight for challenging him.

But now, leaving the matter with his father behind, there was something else that weighs on his heart, and there was only one person that could help him with this.

Knocking at his mother’s, Rhaegar enters inside not expected to find her in the company of Tywin Lannister’s daughter, a very beautiful girl with long golden hairs, emerald green eyes, and a slender frame. She was wearing a red and gold dress, with the proud golden lion embroidered on her belly. 

She immediately got up from her seat, and smiling, she made a curtsey to great him, “Prince Rhaegar.”

“Lady Cersei,” he said, kissing her hand, “You are as enchanting as ever.”

“Thank you, my prince,” she replied and Rhaegar could see the glimpsing of blushing on her cheek. But nevertheless, she tried to use her beauty to charm him.

“May I have a moment alone with my mother, please?” Asked Rhaegar, and the young lady nodded leaving the room.

“She is a beautiful girl, is she?” said his mother, with a smile on her face, for sure remembering the young Joanna Lannister, a friend of her.

“Yes, she is,” replied Rhaegar, but not as beautiful as a certain northern lady, he wanted to add, but didn't do it.

“I suppose you are here to speak about the knight of the laughing tree,” she said, looking at him, as he moved to the table to fill himself a goblet of wine.

“Yes. But also, about something that weighs on my heart,” Rhaegar replied, taking a sip, before sitting next to her, and staying in silence for a moment. What he loved about his mother was that she never insisted when he comes to ask advice or talk. He may stay in silence for a long time pondering the words, but she won't insist. She would let him take his time.

Taking a breath, he went straight to the point, “I think I fell in love with a girl. And I don't know what to do, because she is promised to someone else. Someone that I consider a brother in arms.”

“Lyanna Stark?” she asked, leaning back against the couch, realizing for sure who his brother in arms was, and he nodded, leaning back against the couch too and looking up. “So, she was the knight of the Laughing Tree. Now I understand why I couldn't find her.”

“Yes. But then lady Cersei came, and so I stayed to speak with her.”

“Tywin Lannister will be a happy man now, knowing that his daughter will soon join the royals,” Rhaegar blurted, but the only woman of which he was thinking was Lyanna Stark.

“What made you fall in love with her? Certainly, not her beauty, since I’m sure, there are far more pretty ladies present here than Lyanna Stark.”

“Her spirit. Her wildness. Her being a defying of the rules that the society placed on her. Her good heart in defending the weak and in taking arms to avenge them, and teach a lesson to those who wronged, without asking something in exchange.” He could go all day, listing all the qualities that made him fall in love with her, a girl that he barely really knows but that already won his heart.

“Are you really in love with her so much?” his mother asked, and Rhaegar could feel a certain disbelief and surprise in her tone.

“Yes. But it doesn't matter. She is going to marry Robert in a month from now and I’m going to marry whoever father had chosen. Cersei Lannister for sure.”

“Doubt it. But now I will ask it one thing and you need to think carefully,” his mother said, leaning more towards him, and Rhaegar looked at her attentively. “How much this girl matter to you? Because if I go to your father and suggest him this matter, there will be consequences. Serious consequences.”

“He will never agree to this anyway, mother, so I don't think is important.”

“Rhaegar. If you are in love with her, I promise you that your father will agree. I know how to persuade him. Trust me.”

Rhaegar was stunned by her words and didn't know what to say. How to react. Of course, he knows what she will do for that, but still, he didn't know what to say.

“So?” she asked, waiting for his reply

“Yes. For me she is, but I don't know if the same goes for her. When she kissed me, I felt...I don't know how to describe it. And considering that it was my first one, I would say that it was the best thing I did till now,” he replied looking at his mother, before shaking his head. “Anyway, I doubt it's important. Father already choose my future bride and no one else can change his mind.”

“I can try. But if that happens you need to promise me that you are going to respect her,” his mother said getting up, and he nodded. After kissing his forehead she left the room, and Rhaegar, sighing left it too.

* * *

Lyanna was sitting on the bed with the book of the Four Kings, reading again about her Daeron.

The sun was already done and in a few moments the feast will start, and instead of getting ready for the feast, she was daydreaming of her prince. However, the face that she was picturing right now wasn't the one of her Daeron but of another prince. Handsome, strong, and melancholic.

Suddenly, as she was looking outside, Lyanna heard a knock and getting down from the bed and adjusted the dress, she granted the enter inside.

When the door opened, she never expected him to be the one on the other side, and if she could be honest, she was a little scared in being alone with him in a room knowing his reputation as a whoremonger, and above all, there was still the fresh image of him groping that servant girl.

Lyanna was without words for a moment, as she was looking at him. Now, as a sober man, and without the wildness and roughness of the drunk warrior that he had the knight before, Robert Baratheon was a charming man. Tall and imposing, white a muscular built like a bear. The Knightly tunic itself was stretched tight enough to highlight the muscles and heavyset shoulders of the stag. Now she understood what every woman saw in him, and why they wanted him. But not her. Despite his muscles, his warrior charm, Lyanna didn’t like him. He was far from the graceful Rhaegar.

Remembering that he was waiting for her to say something, Lyanna, greeted her future husband, Robert of House Baratheon with a curtsey, “Lord Baratheon.”

“Finally, we meet, my sweet Lyanna, and I must say that songs do not make you justice,” the young Stag said, approaching her, with a green on his face. “And your brother understated your beauty. If I can be honest, my sweet Lyanna, the only things that Ned prised of you was the wild spirit of the north and a cold beauty.”

Of course, he said that Lyanna wanted to say. Even if Ned was in the Vale, he was the one that knows her the best, and that put a sword in her hand the first time. But this situation let him down in her eyes. She had never expected this from him. Clearing her throat, she replied, trying to be as polite as possible, since he was an important Lord, “I doubt that my brother would want to praise my features in that way, considering the fact that he knows there are more important traits of mine than the beauty."

The Lord of Storm’s End burst up in a long laugh, throwing his head back, “Yes, old Ned is shy as a maiden, and he doesn’t appreciate the beauty of a woman’s body like me, but nevertheless, I love that cold head more than my own brothers.”

"May I ask the reason, Lord Baratheon? Obviously if -"

"Call me Robert. And yes, you make ask whatever you want. I’m an open book,” the Lord said, heading towards the table to see what there was in the jug. “One is emotionless like a fish and colder than the winds of Winters; the other is more scared and weaker than a little Girl. At the age of four, I was already swinging my hammer around the castle and starting to beat the shit out of my opponents.”

Lyanna didn’t reply, but inside her head, she pities them for having such a brother. At least, in all his flaws Brandon loved his brothers and her dearly and would never say such things.

"Tomorrow it will be my turn to compete in the joust, my dear Lyanna," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "And I’m going to win this damn thing for you because the Queen of Love and Beauty deserves to be someone as breath-taking as yourself." Lyanna wanted to argue regarding this part, but before she could do that, Robert grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. His breath wafted onto her and only now she could smell the wine. It seems she misjudged him. "Permit me to wear your favor?"

She was taken aback by that, not expecting for him to ask this, but nevertheless, to be polite, she, swallowing replied, smiling, "I can find no reason to not offer my favor to a man after my hand.”

The answer made him grin, and without a warning, he placed a hand on her waist, pulling her towards him, therefore making her collide with his wide chest. Then, he placed the other on the back of her head and crashing his lips with hers. Lyanna widened her eyes at that, sealing her lips, to not grant him access, and start to push him away by the chest, but he was squeezing her too tightly. However, as he was groping her, and moving towards the bed, Lyanna managed to scratch his face, making him pull away, and after giving him a slap, she kicks him between the legs.

The Lord of the Storm’s End fell to the floor groaning and holding himself, as she screamed in tears, “How dare you kiss me without my permission! I’m not some whore that you can grope without consent!”

“We are going…to marry in a month….” The lords replied groaning and slowly getting up. “Now or then hat does it matter.”

“I will never marry you Robert of House Baratheon! Now out of my room before I slit your throat!”

The lord, offended by her words, left the chambers slamming the door behind him, as she went to lock it immediately, and leaning over it crying silently.

She didn’t want to marry this beast of a man. She will need to speak with her father and change his mind on it.

* * *

When Rhaella reached the room that hundreds of years ago belonged to Prince Rhaena Targaryen and that now was Aerys hidden place. At the door, there were five Dragonkeepers guard and Ser Barristan.

Opening the door, she saw the king showing something to the Lord Commander, however folding it immediately after seeing her.

“Wait outside Hightower,” the king said, sitting on the chair, and once they were alone, he asked her as she field two goblets of wine, “What do you want?”

“I’m here to talk about our son,” she replied, offering him one of the goblets, after taking a sip.

“And what do we have to talk about?” he asked placing the goblet aside, without even drinking.

Rhaella tried to find the perfect words that may not anger him and put Rhaegar in danger, but there weren't different words that she could use. “Rhaegar fell in love with a girl and-“

“I don't care. He will marry the one I choose,” he said, taking a sip this time and turning the other side.

Rhaella taking a breath moved in front of him, and leaning on the table, said, “What are you going to do with The Starks?”

“Kill them, of course. The Stark, the Tully, the Arryn, and Robert Baratheon. They are traitors plotting against me. They want to put the Stag on the Throne.”

“So you want to start a war with four Kingdoms at the same time?” she asked crossing her arms.

“Yes. Do you have a better suggestion?”

“Do you want my advice?”

“Well, since you opened your mouth not to suck my cock, I bet you had something important to say,” he replied with a bored expression.

“Send them to the wall, but spare the Stark girl, Aerys,” she said, taking his hand. She knew it was dangerous demanding from Aerys, but she needs to do this.

“So, it's Lyanna Stark the girl he is in love with,” he murmured to himself with the gaze lost in the void.

“Aerys?”

“Pull down your dress,” he replied, still with the gaze lost in the void, and only the gods know what. Rhaella didn’t obey, but instead, asked, with a firmer tone, “Aerys. The North is big as the other six put together. If you make her marry Rhaegar, they would be more loyal and-“

“I told you to pull down your dress,” he said, with sealed teeth.

“Aerys-“

“Do it!” he shouted making her jerk. Taking a long breath, Rhaella started to open her dress, letting it fall down her slender. And then the other two remaining all naked in front of him. 

They were in silence for a long time and Rhaella started to feel the cold air of the evening came through the open windows, making her skin shudder, as goosebumps appeared for sure on her body.

Getting up, he placed his hand on her sex, making her release a gasp at the sudden contact, and starting to move his hand up and down. She tried to resist the moans that dared to come out as he increased the speed of the strokes, and saying, “When I was held prisoner at Duskendale, a man and a woman came in my dreams, showing me the future.”

He added another finger, and increased the thrusting of them, making Rhaella lean towards him, and grip his arms, as he continued to thrust, “They showed me a dragon black as coal, with menacing green eyes, flying over Westeros, burning down those who wronged us.” Rhaella released a chocking moan as her coming was near, when he added another finger and squeezing the grip on her back neck, before whispering, “But the man who was riding the great beast, had long curly hairs, and white eyes, wearing a Targaryen armour.”

Rhaella released a loud scream, as she came, panting, and heard him ask, “Do you know what it means?”

She nodded, even though the truth was far from that. She didn't know what he was talking about and she didn't even pay attention to it. Pushing her on the table without a warning, Aerys took off his robe, and after stroking the tip of his cock over her wet slit, entered fully inside her, making Rhaella ark her body, and release a loud scream.

“That is your response to what I will do,” he said, grabbing her neck, and starting to give powerful and hard thrusts. “I want my dragon, sweet Rhaella,” he added squeezing her neck and increasing the speed of his thrust. “And I will have it.”

He went that way for a few more moments, before pulling out and spilling his seed all over her belly. Falling on the chair he said breathless, “We can get you pregnant and become fat like a cow as the war is about to break out.”

She said nothing at his offensive comment, just lied there, panting. Since Rhaegar told her that she may have a daughter in the future, Rhaella had spent many moments in imagining what her little daughter may look and swearing to protect her from her husband.

* * *

Ned was walking through the hallway of Harrhenal, to go to his sister's room and ask answers regarding what happened with Robert, since his old friend had an unpleasant expression on his face when he saw him, but in his way, he stumbled upon a beautiful young lady, tall and slender, with long dark hair and haunting violet eyes, dressed in a violet silk gown and an amethyst necklace sparkled in her neck.

“Forgive me, my lady, I wasn't looking where I was going,” Ned, said, apologizing, and the girl, smiling, said shaking her head, “It’s nothing.” And for a moment ned got lost in her beautiful violet eyes. “You are Lord Stark' second son, aren’t you? The one that the men call the quiet wolf.”

“Yes, my lady,” replied Ned with a bow, and feeling his cheek get hot. The woman knows who he is but he doesn’t. So, trying to suppress the beating fast of his heart he introduced himself “My name is Eddard Stark.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Eddard. My name is Ashara Dayne,” she replied, without stopping smiling.

“The honor is all mine, my Lady,” Ned replied, taking the girl’s hand and giving a kiss.

“I would like to stay and talk with you some more, Lord Eddard, but Princess Elia is waiting for me,” she said, and Ned stepped aside, letting the lady pass. “But I hope that we will still have a chance to talk in the future, my lord." Ned smiled, blushing, but didn’t reply, as he saw her walk away, before resuming his walk too, towards his sister's room.

However, he didn’t make too many steps, as he saw her coming in his way, with an angry look on her face and tearful eyes, and so he immediately rushed to her, asking with concern, “Lya, what happened?”

His sister on the other hands, wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his tunic, and between sobs, “I don’t want to marry him.

“What happened Lya?”

“He is a monster,” she replied between sobs as Ned squeezed her tightly, trying to reassure her. His sister was crying, and Robert had his face scratched. That means only one thing, and Ned feels a sudden wave of rage in himself.

“Lya did he force himself on you?” Ned asked, not wanting to believe that his old friend would do such a thing to his sister.

“He wanted, but I didn’t allow it. He tried to kiss me and push me to the bed, But I hold my ground and kick him in the balls,” she replied. The sobbing voice ringing through his body, and his heart was breaking for his sister’s state. This was all his fault. He thought Robert was a good man, an honourable man, and that would treat her kindly, but it seems he was wrong, and he has to mend this “Go to your chambers Lya.”

“But-“

“I will be the one to speak with father and change his mind. I promise,”

With that, Ned left his sister there, rushing to find Robert. He needs to speak with him on this and demand his apologies.


	4. Chapter 4

Ned was storming through the camps outside Harrhenal in searching for Robert, but still couldn’t find him, until he heard, laughs and roars from a tent.

When he got there, he saw Robert deep in an arm-wrestling contest with some knight, and a whore next to him.

Without thinking, Ned rushed straight towards him and throwing the most powerful punch that he could give straight to Robert’s cheek, knocking him to the ground. The hand now was hurting like hell, and despite the punch, Robert got up immediately, roar, “Seven Hells! What got into you!”

“You tried to rape my sister!” shouted Ned, trying to approach Robert again, but was pushed away by his men.

“What in the Seven Hells are you talking about!” roared Robert, stopping a few inches from him.

“My sister was in tears after you left her chambers, and then informed me that you tried to force yourself on her,” Ned replied, trying to keep his anger at bay. 

“What is going here?!” Came the voice of his elder, who pushed the soldiers away. “Take your hands down from my brother or I will cut them off.”

The men moved away, as Robert stepped forward. “I did nothing wrong. I only wanted to give a kiss on her cheek, but she burst into anger. But even if I tried to kiss her on the lips what does it matter? In a moon from now, we will be husband and wife.”

“No! You will not marry my sister, Robert!” shouted Ned, as Brandon was pushing him away. “Not until I'm alive.”

Once they were back in the courtyard, “What in the bloody hell happened there, Ned?”

“I need to speak with father,” Ned replied, trying to move away, but Brandon stopped him, grabbing his arm, “Not before you tell me why you hit a high-born lord.”

“I will tell you. But first I need to speak with father,” Ned said, shrugging his hand. “Where is he?”

“In the stark camp, with the lords,” replied Brandon and Ned nodded, heading there.

* * *

“I’m sorry Elia for, making you wait, but I got lost in this hallway,” said Ashara, entering in the chambers that she shared with the princess of Dorne.

“It's the only reason, my dear friend?” asked the princess with a cocky smile, and Ashara blushed, looking down. 

“I can hide nothing from you, my princess. You know me so well.”

“Then come and sit, tell me everything,” said the young Princess, eagerly and patting the spot next to here, however Ashara shook her head, and holding the scroll, “prince Oberyn give me this. It comes from Prince Doran.”

And her friend rolled her eyes at hearing that, but nevertheless, she took the scroll, unfolding it, and reading quickly.

“Judging by your expression, they aren't good news.”

“No,” replied the princess, folding it back, getting up, and throwing it into the fireplace. Filling two goblets of wine, she continued. “As expected, Doran wants me to seduce the crown prince. He says that if the charming doesn't work, I need to take him to bed or at least find myself naked in his bed.”

“And do you want to do that?”

“Of course, I don't. I don't want to join the royal family and suffer the king madness,” replied her friend quite angrily. But then, sighing, she said calmly, “I will try to start some conversation with him. Though I doubt I will find any good ground.”

“Maybe I can help you in that,” said Ashara, remembering that Eddard Stark fought with the prince on the Stepstones. He for sure must know more things that may help her to win the prince's heart.

“What do you mean?”

“I meet someone who fought with the prince on the Stepstones.”

“Who?”

“Eddard Stark,” Ashara replied, eager to share with her friend her feeling about this quiet and handsome Northern wolf.

* * *

“Father. We need to talk,” said Ned bursting in the tent, interrupting the conversation that he had with Lord Arryn.

The lord of the Eyrie left the tent, after patting Ned's shoulder and he hears his father say, “if you are here to speak about what happened between your sister and lord Baratheon, you are wasting your time.”

“Father. You can't agree with this marriage after what he tried to do.”

“He assured me that he only wanted to kiss her cheek and your sister burst in anger.”

“Tell me, Father, that you don’t believe him more than you believe your daughter,” Ned said in disbelief.

Sighing, his father, “All right, Ned. If you tell me right now, swearing on the Old Gods, that Robert Baratheon is capable of raping a young girl, I will break the betrothal. Tell me that he has done this before, and I will do it without hesitation.”

But Ned didn't reply, not knowing what to say. Should he lie and stain his friend's reputation, or should he say nothing?

“I know that seeing your sister in tears made you reach that conclusion, but you don’t know her. You don’t know how fiercely she fought Brandon on this matter when he told her that she was going to marry in a moon from now.”

“But still, I don’t think she would lie about it, father,” he said, in a low voice.

His father, on the other hand, placing the hand on his shoulder, said, “Lyanna is full of surprises. Don't worry about her. She will hear reasons after the end of this damn tourney.”

“You still hate the southern tourneys?” asked Ned, sitting on one of the chairs.

“It’s not about the tourney, but about who made it. The Mad King,” his father said, muttering the last part, and Ned wondered why was the reason for this, but their brother, bringing some wine, interrupted them.

“How is the hand, little brother?” Brandon asked, laughing and giving him a cup of wine.

“Still bloody hurt,” Ned replied, opening and closing his first before taking a sip.

“There is a great multitude of young virgins down here, eh, little brother,” his brother said, laughing and taking another long sip of wine, and making their father chuckle too, who added, “Like the bees to the honey, this southern are. All running after a title."

“Who did you choose for me?” asked Ned against the goblet, with the only woman appearing in his mind right now was the girl with haunting violet eyes of House Dayne.

“No one. Yet. But I’m pondering between a Royce or someone from the reach,” his father replied, but Ned just stayed in silence. He knows what the future holds for him. A marriage for duty not for love.

* * *

Outside was already night, and in less than an hour the feast should begin, but Lyanna was still shaken by what had happened with Robert a few moments before. And now she was wandering like a ghost without a purpose, through the hallways of this cursed place.

Ned promised her that he will speak with their father about the betrothal and make him change his mind. She really hoped that he will succeed, otherwise, if he fails, she swears it by the old gods, that she will jump from the tallest tower of Harrhenal. Better death than a life stuck next to a monster like him.

Suddenly, as she was bumped against someone, and almost fell to the floor, but two strong hands caught her before that happens. Looking up, she realizes it was the young prince, and she immediately blushed.

“Lady Lyanna,” he greeted her with a beautiful smile, which left her without breath and lost for a brief second as she was looking him in those deep purple eyes. “The feast is about to start, but I see that you are not ready, yet. Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately, lying of course, and looking down.

“May I escort you to your rooms? This place is a real maze, and it's easy to get lost," said the prince, offering his elbow, and she a bit too eagerly took his offer with a smile.

They started to walk in silence for a while, with the only thing to break it from time to time, where the laughter of the soldiers in the courtyard, and the noise of the wind passing through the cracks.

For a moment, Lyanna tried to steal a glimpse of the young prince shapes, who was accompanying her with his royal bearing, and she felt her heart melt. A strange feeling in her belly appears, and it was like a butterfly were flying. Certainly, Prince Rhaegar was a little older than the young Dragon, but in addition to that she was sure that he was even more charming. His long hairs were now braided in one long tail, giving him the warrior look that the Young Dragon usually had. The only thing that was missing right now was the crown of the conqueror on his head.

When he caught her looking at him, Lyanna immediately turned away to look forward, blushing, embarrassed because of what she was doing.

“Don’t worry, little wolf. I won’t cut your head for looking at me,” he said jokingly, and that made her chuckle too, bringing the hand immediately to the mouth to silence. “Don’t do it, my lady. Never hid your laughs to the world because it’s a beautiful song to my ears.”

“You flatter me, your grace,” she said, and she didn’t know how to make the blush disappear, that continued to expand also because of him calling her ‘little wolf.’ That was a very intimate expression, that would have made her mad if someone like Robert would have said. But strangely when the prince said it it wasn’t. On the contrary. It made her happy.

“It’s the truth. But I also want to ask, why you were wandering all alone through the hallways,” he said, and that made her stop immediately because brought back Robert’s assault, that was forgotten for a glimpse moment. “My Lady?”

Releasing a long and sad sigh, intertwined her finger, she replied, in a low, “Something bad happened a few moments ago, that shakes me a lot-“ she stopped, not knowing how to continue, but feel the prince take her hand, and raising her chin, who finished, “It was Robert, wasn’t he? He was a bit too rough with you.”

“H-how did you understand.”

“Well, as I was walking through the hallways of Harrhenal, wondering just like you, I saw from far away a little bit of commotion in the camp of the Stormlands. It was your brother that hit Robert. And before that I saw a scratch on his face, so seeing you in a bad mood, I put everything together.”

“Well, you are a very good observer, my prince,” she replied, smiling, before looking down, and after swallowing, she added, “He tried to force himself on me, saying that if we do now or in a month, it doesn’t matter. I think that you can imagine my response.”

Leaning towards her, the young Prince whispered, “Yes I can. And I’m pretty sure that my cousin won’t be able to use his favorite toy for tonight.” And that made her giggle, despite knowing perfectly that she shouldn’t laugh because of that. “Now we better hurry up, otherwise we will be late for the feast and the guests will believe that we have been kidnapped by the ghosts of Harrhenal." She smiled and they resumed walking.

When they reached her chambers, Lyanna something to her mind comes at that moment and she wanted to ask the prince that but was too embarrassed to do it.

“Well, my lady, I think our way parts her, but despite what happened, I hope that I will see you at the feast.” And she nodded smiling, as he kisses her hand.

As he was ready to leave, Lyanna stopped taking his hand and she saw that he was taken aback, “I’m sorry. But was wondering If I could ask you a favor."

“Of course, you can.”

“I was wondering if you would like to wear my favor tomorrow. For the joust I mean,” she said, immediately looking down embarrassed. Why she even asked? Such a stupid thing. She was such a stupid girl. It wasn’t the lady that offers the favor, but the knight. Shaking her head, she said, “I’m sorry, my prince. That was too forward of me.”

“No, my lady. I would be very honoured to wear it,” he replied, smiling, and she immediately went inside, before returning with a cloth lace with winter roses embroidered on it.

The prince smiled, accepting it happily, apparently, and saying, "Winter Roses? I guess they are your favorite flowers, are they?" and she nodded smiling. "Thank you, my lady."

After giving her one last kiss on the hand, he walked away.

Lyanna immediately entered in her chamber, closing the door behind her. And smiling, she closed her eyes. If this moment was a dream, she did not want to wake up, because it was perfect. They were so different Robert and the prince. One was coarse, cheeky, and sure of his charm; while the other was kind and gentle, not even trying to use his charm, making every girl fall for him. If someone was to ask her with whom she would want to spend all her life, Lyanna would immediately choose Rhaegar. And that wasn’t because he was a prince.

"Are you dreaming about your young dragon, again?" asked a woman's voice, and opening her eyes, Lyanna saw Dacey Mormont, in a dress sitting on her bed.

“What are you doing here, Dacey?” asked Lyanna approaching.

“Eddard asked to be your shadow. And I’m here to help you dress.”

“I can dress myself,” Lyanna replied, moving toward her wardrobe and choosing a blue and grey dress to wear, with the direwolf of house stark embodied on it and winter Roses on the side.

“Who do you intend to charm my lady? Your future husband or a certain handsome prince?”

“No one of your business,” replied Lyanna, sitting at the mirror to start with her hairs.

* * *

_High in the halls of the kings who are gone_

_Jenny would dance with her ghosts_

_The ones she had lost and the ones she had found_

_And the ones who had loved her the most_

While he was singing, the prince's fingers slithered by the harp's strings, producing a beautiful but gloomy melody. The Lords and Ladies who were present, fell silent while listening to his harp's lament. Some women sighed and some men thought it was a dull affair. Lyanna noticed the intense and torturous expression on his face, and the melancholy of his song, made her remember the story of the young Dragon Prince who was born in grief, marked by the tragedy of Summerhall

_The ones who'd been gone for so very long_

_She couldn't remember their names_

_They spun her around on the damp old stones_

_Spun away all her sorrow and pain_

_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

_Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

And she the same goes for Lyanna. She doesn't want to leave this hall. She would prefer to spend all her life in this cursed place and listening to this tearful song of the honourable Dragon Prince, rather than an entire life with a whoring stag.

_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

_Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

_They danced through the day_

_And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall_

_From winter to summer then winter again_

_'Til the walls did crumble and fall_

All the Ladies that were present at the feast were in tears at hearing her son singing this song that he had made himself in his youth when he visited Summerhall, and she herself was in tears at hearing this, because it brought back to memory that hateful night when she lost many of her relatives, and at the same time rage against the Maesters who did that.

_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

_Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

_Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave_

As her son keeps singing, with the King getting bored by every word that was singed, Rhaella watched the Stark Table, or to be more precise Lyanna stark, who had her gaze fixed on Rhaegar and with the tears in her eyes, as the youngest of the Starks was glancing at her and silently laughing.

This little distraction of hers gives Rhaella the possibility to take a better look at the Northern Lady who seems to have won her son's heart. She was a very beautiful girl, not as beautiful as the Lioness of Casterly Rock, but beautiful enough to win a prince. And just as Rhaegar said, one could see the wildness hidden behind the beauty, and just like Visenya Targaryen, a warrior Queen, ready to challenge and defy whatever decision from the King she may not like.

But looking as she was looking at the girl better, Rhaella remembers what Aerys told her when he took her on that table. She didn’t pay much attention, but now, taking a better look at the girl, who had long brown hair, Rhaella understood who the man her husband was referring too. HE must be for sure a son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. And understanding this, Rhaella, turning to the king, whispered, “It’s Lyanna Stark the girl you choose for Rhaegar, isn’t she?”

“What makes you think?” he asked, not turning to her.

“The boy on the dragon. He had dark hair.”

“Almost all Westeros had dark hairs.”

“But only the Starks had wargs powers, or had,” she replied.

“How do you know that?”

“I read books and-“

“Now I understand from whom he took the bad habit of loving books more than his sword,” replied the King, in annoyance. “Maybe if you swallowed swords when he was in your womb instead of books, now he wouldn’t be a weak-minded warrior, but strong as the conqueror.”

_High in the halls of the kings who are gone_

_Jenny would dance with her ghosts_

_The ones she had lost and the ones she had found_

_And the ones_

_Who had loved her the most._

Prince Rhaegar finished, as Lyanna cleaned her tears immediately, and hear her little brother, say, "Are you crying, Lya!?" and who looked at her with amusement and scorn.

Lyanna felt her face turn red because of that, and a wave of anger grew inside of her for her younger brother had destroyed her moment of admiration towards the Prince. Out of fury, she held her goblet and pour wine over his head, leaving Benjen soaked and reeking.

"Lyanna!" Ned warned her, and she gives him a look, while Brandon tried to avoid laughing, with his hand covering his mouth.

"You'll pay for this sister!" Benjen promised.

"Oh, hold your tongue, you brat!" she told him, crossing her arms in annoyance, and starting to look around, receiving also a warning look from her father who was speaking with Lord Tully.

But when she returned her attention back to the young Prince, she caught him looking at her, and that made her even more embarrassed for making a full of herself with that childish move, however, the small smile he gives her, was enough to ease that embarrassing situation.

* * *

“Tell me, little brother, did I miss something?" his brother asked, sitting on the chair, leaning his back against the table and his elbows resting on it, while he had a cup of wine in his hand.

"I don't know what you're referring to, brother," murmured Ned taking a sip.

"I may be drunk, but my eyesight is not completely blurred yet," he chuckled, giving him a push with his shoulder. “You are interested in the Dornish girl. The one with haunting violet eyes.”

And hearing that, Ned blushed immediately looking down, and his brother immediately started to laugh. Leaning he whispered, “I heard that the Dornish woman doesn’t care if they lose their womanhood before getting married, so I would say, this is your perfect time to taste a woman.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Liar. Since the feast started, you never took your eyes off her. You want her, you lusted her, so as a brother, I advise you to move your ass before someone else gets a bloody sword.”

Realizing the meaning of that, Ned shakes his head, and taking a sip, "You are disgusting, brother."

"I know. But someone must be to pull you little brats out of your shell of shyness," his brother laughed. “Listen up. Since the begging, that girl wanted to ride a wolf, so unless you don’t want me to make the honors of House Stark, you will get your ass up and invite her to dance.”

“I can’t. Father-“

“By the old gods, Ned. I swear, Lyanna has more balls than you in this. Stop thinking about father for a moment and invite the girl to a dance.”

“I think I need another mug of wine,” said Ned, getting up, and hear his brother muter a bloody hell, and a hand dragging him.

“What are you doing, Bran?” Ned asked, as his brother was leading him towards the table where the Dornish ladies were sitting.

“Greetings, my ladies. Princess Elia. I’m Brandon Stark of Winterfell,” his bother presented himself, looking at all the girls, but Ned’s gaze stood only on one, who was smiling at him.

“Come one, Ned, say something, for fuck's sake,” said his brother Brandon, patting his back. “Beg your pardon, Lady Ashara, but my brother is quite shy.”

“Shy?” asked the girl, with a raised eyebrow. "He wasn't very shy when I met him a few hours ago."

And Ned blushed at hearing that, and his brother teasing way wasn’t helping. “A few hours ago?”

He really didn’t know what to say or do right now to get out of this mess and embarrassment, but fortunately, Princess Elia broke the awkward moment, asking, “You are the one the ladies call the Wild wolf?”

“I am, my Princess. Would you like to dance with me, Princess Elia?" asked his brother, cockily.

"I'd be delighted to," the woman replied, getting up, and Brandon lead her to the dancing floor, leaving him therefore alone with Lady Ashara.

He really didn’t know how to start, but then taking a long breath, he asked, nervously, “Would you give me the honor?” pointing out to where others were dancing, and her eyes sparkled. Her beautiful purple eyes like a star lightening up a dark sky.

“I would.” Lady Ashara smiled and offered him her hand, which he took, without hesitation. She fits so good in his arms as they were dancing. Her waist was thin, although her hips were curvy. Lady Ashara Dayne wore a beautiful purple gown, a mysterious smile and before the first song was over, he was already looking for ways to make sure a second one would follow.

“So, Lord Eddard, you never speak as you dance?” She asked him, biting her lip, and Ned blushed a bit, however, replying honestly, “I don’t dance much, my lady.”

She smiled at him, and her smile warmed his heart more than any Northern fire heart, and hear her say, “You should do. Your feet have not stepped on mine yet, your arms are gentle, and I do not imagine any lady would be less than pleased to share a dance with you, Lord Eddard.”

Ned tried to brush away her compliments, blushing furiously, but still continued, “You may call me Eddard, or Ned.”

“I still prefer Lord Eddard,” She replied, with shining eyes full of lust. She was so different from the other ladies of the south that he met in his lifetime.

“So, I heard you accompanied the prince to the Stepstone when you fought the Blackfyre,” Ashara said. “How is our dear prince, behaving.”

“Quite good, I would say. He is honourable, merciful, and of course of good heart,” replied Ned hoping that she won't be too curious on that matter, because he didn't want for the great secret to come out.

“I’m glad to hear that. At least after so many years, we will finally have a good king on that throne,” she said looking towards the royal table.

“And you, my lady. What is your story?” he asked, wanting to change the argument.

“Well, what can I say. I’m the third born of an ancient house that bears the emblem of a falling star, and my dear brother is the most famous knight in the Seven Kingdoms and maybe beyond. So, I would say nothing special,” she replied, smiling and glancing up at him.

“You have forgotten the most important thing, my lady," Ned replied, looking her in the eye, and seeing her raise an eyebrow in a question, and he immediately hastened to add, "That you are the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms."

The lady blushed at hearing his words, and looked immediately down, “You are flattering me, my lord. But I doubt I’m the most beautiful woman of the Seven Kingdoms. There are far more pretty women than me. Lady Cersei for example-“

“No one is more beautiful to me,” he replied, with barely a whisper, not believing his own words. His heart was beating was and his mind was racing. But taking a breath, he asked, “M-May I kiss you?” and she nodded. So, Ned, leaning down, placed a kiss on her soft lips. Then he immediately broke the contact, but already missing her soft lips.

They continued to dance in a quite awkward situation, until she was the one to break it, asking with a cocky smile, “Are you joining the jousting tomorrow, Eddard?”

“I’m afraid not, my lady.” He said and she eyed him wondering.

“You do not joust?” She asked.

“I don’t like fighting at Tourneys, riding, or sword fighting,” Ned answered.

“Why is that?” Lady Ashara whispered with curiosity, leaning more near his ear.

Releasing a sigh, Ned replied honestly, “I don’t fight in tournaments because when I fight a man for real, I don’t want him to know what I can do.”

“Why, Lord Eddard, now you are making the rest of the knights sound like egotistical fools and I do not imagine my brother would like the thought.” She chuckled against his neck, and Ned felt the goosebumps taking over his body. “Can’t say I don’t see that you are right. But why deny the boys their favorite sport.” She asked, tilting her head to meet his eyes.

“War should not be a sport,” he murmured, no judgment, only speaking his mind. He stated this many times during his warding, and the knights of the Vale laughed at him, thinking he was joking, and he was sure the same will think the lady.

“No, it should not. But surely you will not tell them that,” Ashara pointed out to a whole lot of excited men, trading jokes and mockery at a table.

Ned smiled. “I will make sure I don’t. I would not want to upset the Sword of the Morning.” He said and she eyed him amused. He was a good and honorable man, Arthur Dayn, but someone he got too cocky because of his reputation, but of course, it was something Ned would never say in front of his sister.

“I appreciate it, I would rather you two got along.” She said and he felt the goosebumps again. This he can never reveal to Bran, otherwise, he will mock me to no end.

“So would I.” He answered, never breaking the eye contact, before leaning down to give her another kiss.

* * *

Rhaegar was watching the son’s lords dancing with their ladies, and he wanted so much to ask Lady Lyanna for a dance but couldn’t. His mother advised him to stay away from her in front of everyone because his eyes betrayed the love, he had in for her.

So now he had to sit apart watching as she danced with someone else from the northern side it seems. But what caught his attention was Eddard dancing with Lady Ashara. A shy young man the quite wolf was, never seen with a woman during the last four years, but it seems that the wolf had been bewitched by the maid with laughing purple eyes. And also, he seems to smile a lot with her as he was dancing, something he usually didn’t do.

However, when he saw them steal kisses, turning to his friend, Rhaegar said, “It seems your sister has conquered a wolf," and giving a look also to Ser Barristan, who was looking at them with jealousy. Poor man. The girl would never return his feeling and he should know it.

“As long as she is happy, I have nothing to object with that,” replied Arthur, and Rhaegar smiled. “But she is not the only one who conquers someone.”

“She is betrothed to someone else.”

“Yes, betrothed, not married. And the same goes for you, my prince. Don't waste opportunities you may regret in the future,” his friend, said, but Rhaegar didn’t reply. Yes, it was true, but still, what if he does a wrong step and upsets the girl? He couldn’t bear that.

He started to look around at all those lords and ladies ready to throw their daughters in his arms, hoping that he may choose one as his queen. Then there was Robert in a contest drink with Ser Richard Lonmouth.

However, after taking a long sip of wine, Rhaegar muttered a “Fuck it!”, and got up, ready to do what he promised to not do, not carrying for what the others may think.

“Lady Cersei is waiting for you to invite her to dance, my prince,” said Ser Barristan, trying to stop him.

“Then let her wait,” Rhaegar replied. He didn’t care what the lioness wants or waiting. He preferred a wolf.

Rhaella saw her son start to move towards the table where Lyanna was sitting with her ladies and her father who was in a deep conversation with one of his lords, and she saw the determination in her son’s look at that. She wasn't stupid. She knew what he wanted to do.

“What in the seven hells is he doing?” murmured Aerys, anger clearly displayed on his face as the hall went silent the moment he stopped in front of the girl. 

“Following his heart,” she replied, smiling to herself.

“Lord Stark. May I request the pleasure of a dance with your daughter, Lady Lyanna?” her son asked the old wolf, and she saw him become white like a ghost. However, the girl immediately got up and smiling, replied, a bit too eagerly, “I'd be delighted to.”

And her son took the girl's hand, leading her to the center of the floor, under the envious looks of the other ladies, especially Cersei Lannister, who was fuming in anger at this. The same thing could be said about Robert Baratheon and Brandon Stark.

She felt the pressure of his other hand warm against her waist. She places her free hand on his shoulder, and they began to spin in delicate circles.

The music spins around them. He watched as her smile grew as big as his. Happiness flared in her eyes at every spin that he does with her. A quite good dancer the She-wolf of Winterfell was, despite her wild reputation. She was so beautiful and so young. He knows he had fallen in love with her the first time he saw her face the attackers in the Godswood, and now this little rebellious moment was theirs.

Nothing else matters at that moment. Not the lords, not the ladies. Not their families or their friends. No one. Only them. He wasn’t a prince in this moment, and she wasn’t a high-born lady. Only a man and a woman, dancing in their secret love, if that could be called. He dips her body backward, her silver hair almost touching the floor.

His face is inches from hers, so much so that their noses are almost touching. He lifts her back up, pushing her away, but their hands remain touching, catching her as their arms pull taut and spinning her out and away.

Then he rears her back in, unable to give her up. She falls into him, his strong arms wrapping her closely to him, and the music ended. Rhaegar lost himself in her eyes for a moment, bewitched and wanting to kiss her so much, but knowing it wasn’t the perfect moment.

All the great Hall was in silence for a moment watching the prince and the daughter of the Warden of the North standing there, looking at each other, as those who were around didn’t exist, and then Rhaella hear, a powerful voice coming from the side of the Northmen roar, “A toast to the Dragon Prince and the She-wolf of Winterfell!” and everyone started to cheer and clap their hands.

She looked at her husband for a moment, seeing him full of rage, and she dreaded the outcome of whatever will happen. Then, looking at the others who were involved, like Robert Baratheon and Lord Stark, and Rhaella saw anger, unhappiness, and even more unreadable moods. This will not end well, she thought as the two lovers parted immediately, and she gives a knowing look to her son as a warning.

Tomorrow, she will have to speak with him, but tonight, let the water calm down.


	5. Chapter 5

Rickard was pacing in his room waiting for Lord Arryn to come, but his mind was still stopped at what happened last night at the feast. Lyanna and the Prince dancing like that. Now thousands of different scenarios were playing on his mind, but his sons assured him that she would never allow something like that to happen. And also, Ned said that the prince would never do something like that. 

They also revealed him that she was the knight of the laughing tree, and Rickard hated that his little girl put herself in danger, to defend the honour of one of his lords. But if she

Hearing knocking at the door, Rickard got up immediately to greet Lord Arryn, who entered.

"Lord Arryn.”

“Lord Stark. I think you know why I am here,” the lord of the Vale said, sitting in one of the chairs at the table, as Rickard was filling two goblets of wine.

“Yes. But I assure you, my lord, that nothing changed. It was only a dance and my daughter accepted to keep her face.”

“And Eddard. I heard he fought with Robert in the camp of the Stormlands. I didn't have the chance to speak with him on this regard and especially regarding our plot.”

“Yes. He is quite busy vowing a Dornish lady,” Rickard replied, not believing his own words, and that made Jon Arryn laugh too. “Of course, Brandon was the one to push him and make a step, but by the end of it, I couldn't believe my eyes. The shy boy that I once knew now was leaning down to kiss her.” And Arryn keeps laughing, shaking his head, and as he took a sip, the protector of the Vale asked, “Will you allow him to marry the girl?”

“I don't know,” replied Rickard looking towards the window. “I don’t doubt she is a lovely girl, and for sure would be a good wife, but she is from Dorn and especially from a minor house that nothing to offer the North. I would rather make him marry someone from the Reach or the Vale. However, I need to ask you something very important, lord Arryn.”

The lord of the Eyrie was all ears and so taking a long breath, Rickard asked, “You raised Robert Baratheon. So, tell me, is he capable of raping a young girl?”

“Raping? Robert Baratheon?” asked Arryn, the disbelief clearly on his face. “That’s impossible. Yes. He can be rough sometimes and eager to get what he wants, but he would never do that.” And Rickard nodded, looking down, sipping from his goblet, though he really didn’t know what to say. “Was that the reason of the fight between him and Ned, Lord Stark?”

And Rickard nodded, wanting to change the argument, but before he could start, the Lord of the Eyrie, said, “Well, I assure you that he would never do that. Robert is a good man, with an ancient lineage, and he is the best choice as a husband for your daughter.”

Rickard nodded, releasing a sigh, and hear Jon Arryn add, “He will be the best King in three hundred years that Westeros had.”

“If we win.”

“If we win? Riverlands, Vale, the Stormlands, and The North against the Crownlands and the Reach? I would say we can’t win.”

* * *

Lyanna woke up, with a smile printed on her face, when the sun already rose up, feeling very tired but also very happy. Last night it was the best night of her life when she danced with the prince. She wasn't someone who loved to dance, but for the young prince, she would make an exception.

“Still dreaming about your dragon prince, my lady?” came Dacey’s voice from the door after closing it behind, and Lyanna, replied, giggling, “Yes. And I would say that I never enjoyed dancing so much like last night.”

The Mormont started to giggle too sitting next to her on the bed. Dacey could be a thought girl, jumping in the field of battle immediately, but sometimes she could be sweet, kind, and even dreamy, not to mention that during the feast she has done nothing but mention The Sword of the Morning and even mocking him for the too serious expression he had on his face. For sure the too much wine had gone to head.

“Robert Baratheon didn't have a happy face at seeing you with the prince.”

“Robert Baratheon can fuck himself for what I care. That man is a monster,” she replied, looking down, and heard the door open, seeing her father entering.

Dacey immediately got up to greet her liege lord with a curtsey, “Lord Stark.”

“Lady Dacey. May I have a moment alone with my daughter?” Her father asked with a serious expression. She knew why he was here and what he wanted to say.

Once they were alone, her father sat on the bed next to her and sighing said, “You disappointed me, daughter. I thought that I was a good father for you and that I teach how a proper lady should behave at best.”

Lyanna didn't reply, just looked down as her fingers were playing with the sheets, and her mind racing full of different moods and different replies to that.

“In a moon from now, you are going to marry Robert in the Godswood of Winterfell, before the old gods and the eyes of the North. And before that happens, you are forbidden to stay near the prince, and especially wander alone.”

At hearing that she immediately looked up, as tears were forming at the corners of her eyes, “Why are you doing this father? Forcing me to spend my life next to a beast like that? Do you love me so little that you don't care that I will suffer in that life next to that man?”

“No, my little child,” he said, hugging her, as she starts to sob in his arms. “I love you, my child. And I do all this because I want you to have a beautiful life, next to a man who is worthy of you and who comes from a great lineage.”

“No!” she shouted, pulling away. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t force me in a marriage with someone like Robert Baratheon, who already has bastards through the seven Kingdoms and who knows maybe even across the Sea!”

Her father started to laugh, shaking his head, before sighting reply, “Lya, Lya. You still didn’t understand the world you live in? Almost every man, low or high born, great Lord or minor Lord, has at least a bastard.”

“Not the prince,” she said before could stop the words to come out.

Her father's mood changed from a laughing one to an angry one, and getting up and looking down at her, he said, “So, it’s because of this that you spread those lies about Robert? Do you think that by lying I will make you marry Prince Rhaegar?” And Lyanna didn’t reply. She didn’t want to put ‘ _her Prince’_ in danger.

“Foolish girl. You are a foolish girl who fell for a royal that will never love you and especially that soon may become mad. A danger worse than Robert, who is the best of the men and would make a great king.”

“King?” she asked, thinking she misheard. What do you mean father?”

“Nothing. But listen to me clearly. From this day till you marry Robert, you are forbidden to approach the Prince, dance with the Prince, and leave these rooms without Dacey.”

“Father-“ but he stopped raising his hand, and shaking his head. “No, Lyanna. Enough with your rebellious ways. I will not have my daughter shamed by a prince and called whore across the Seven Kingdoms. And you will apologize to Robert.”

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving her in tears and silently crying, as Dacey entered.

* * *

Rhaella was sitting at the royal box, awaiting the beginning of the tourney, that today will start without the king’s presence. Her _dear husband_ said he was to bored by this joking fight of the green boys, and she wanted to laugh at that. But he never was one for fighting in the tourneys. He prefers to spend his time in fucking some whores or was.

Shaking her head from that, Rhaella started to look around and saw Cersei looking in her direction with a huge smile on her face. Poor girl, when Aerys will reveal the name of the chosen girl. But it's all Tywin's faults. He shouldn't have promised something that it was not to him to choose. Not after how the relationship between him and Aerys turned.

When she commotions and murders from the sides, Rhaella looked to the direction where it comes from and saw the stark, enter. The girl looked down in embarrassment, and Rhaella saw the judgemental looks of the lords and the glare and envoys of the ladies.

“Lady Lyanna. Would you like to sit with me? There is a free spot on the queen' side,” Rhaella said and everyone turned towards her. The girl looked at her father in approval who hesitantly nodded, and she immediately came to the royal box, climbing the stairs, helped by Ser Oswell, who was aware regarding the truth of her being the Knight of the Laughing Tree.

“Don't mind them, lady Lyanna. They are just envious women,” said Rhaella at seeing the girl glance at the other ladies. She smiled and sat next to her, as the first challengers were announced. 

Leaning towards the girl, Rhaella said, “I know that you have feelings for my son.” And the girl tensed at hearing that, shifting in her seat. “Don't worry. I will say to no one.”

The first clash happened, and some Reach-man unhorsed a Vale-man. “You know, in normal times it wouldn’t matter your feelings towards the dragon prince. But luckily for you, my son's happiness matter to me and I know that your feelings are returned because it’s what he feels for you it's the same.”

The queen’s revelation left Lyanna speechless and full of different moods and a mind full of questions. Did the prince really feel for her what she feels for him? Even though, the truth was, she didn't know what it was. Was it love or was it lust? Ned himself fell for a southern girl that he only met a day ago, and already wanted to ask father to let him marry her.

“I spoke with the king,” the queen said, and Lyanna immediately looked at her, feeling how her heart was racing. 

Side the cheese got very loud and Lyanna saw the stag came into the field, with his horned helmet on, the visor up and a smirk on his face, as he glanced at every maiden who was there, trying to hit them with the charm.

He made a bow in front of the royal box, and so did his opponent, a knight who bore the emblem of two combatant griffins, counterchanged, on a red and white field. “Lord Jon Connaughton.” The queen leaned whispering.

Laughing Robert rode away with a smirk, after giving her a look. The arrogance and confidence were written on his face, as he lowered the visor, and taking the lance charged against his opponent. Lyanna hopped so much that the other knight unhorses Robert, but sadly it didn't happen, and Robert emerged the winner. 

Before leaving the field, he shouted in her direction, “I will win for you!”

However, the next one to enter the field was him. Was the prince. He was wearing an exquisite suit of tailored plate dark as obsidian upon the breastplate in glittering rubies was the dragon of his house under this he wore gilded mail that twinkled in the light.

Since the beginning of the tourney, Prince Rhaegar already has unhorsed three opponents. As she was looking at him Lyanna’s eyes stopped on the lace cloth tied on his right arm over the armour. She never expected for him to wear in front of everyone, but nevertheless, she was glad.

His opponent was a Lannister as she could recognize the golden lion on the chest, but she didn't know which one. 

“This one is Gerion Lannister, the youngest of Lord Tywin's brother. He is the most reckless of them and held a grudge towards Rhaegar for defeating him in the last few tourneys,” whispered the queen, and Lyanna nodded, returning her attention back to the field. Prince Rhaegar rode towards the royal box, making a bow to the queen, and reassuring smile to her before riding away, and so did the Lannister knight.

As the challengers were getting ready, Queen Rhaella, leaning, asked, “I see you gave him your favors."

“Yes. But I hope he won’t get in trouble with his grace the King,” replied Lyanna looking down.

“Do not worry, child. He won’t get in trouble with the king. But you may get in trouble with the other Ladies, especially Cersei Lannister,” the queen whispered, pointing towards a girl with golden hairs, who was glaring at her, before turning to look to the field.

When the horn sounded, and the banner rises the opponents charged at each other and Lyanna could feel the heart in her throat because of how fast was beating and squeezing her dress. The lances made contact with the chest, but Prince Rhaegar managed to stay on the horse. After that, they took another lance and charged again, this time the Lannister knight missed, but the prince managed to strike, however, the opponent was steady on his horse.

Now they were on the third round, and ready to charge. Lyanna really hopped that ‘her Prince’ win this round, otherwise she didn’t know if he will be able to match the other opponent, because they were quite good. There were still on, her brother, Robert Baratheon, Ser Arthur, Ser Barristan, and many more knights.

They charged against each other, and by the Old gods, it seemed that was an eternity. She closed her eyes for an instant and after hearing the crash of lances against steel, and the cheering of the people, she opened them, seeing ‘her Prince’ emerging triumphant and the Lannister knight on the ground.

Prince Rhaegar approached the royal box with the hell off, and the lance raised, smiling at her, and she returned, before riding away.

Now that ‘ _her prince'_ won, she finally could breathe normally, and turning to the queen, she asked, “You said that you spoke to the king regarding This. What do you mean, your grace?”

“This is not the right place for that to speak, but know that by the end of this tourney you will have the answer to your question.”

Lyanna only nodded, returning her attention to the field and saw her brother Brandon enter on his brown stallion, and will be facing a Hightower, it seems. But she has other things in mind right now.

* * *

Ned was sitting on the northern side of the stands, with his father and some other minor lords glancing now and then to the royal box, where his sister was sitting with the queen, and the little prince and the ladies.

"Have you thought about what I asked you yesterday, Father?" Ned asked while the knights were charging at each other.

"Yes, I have. And I asked Jon Arryn about it," his father replied, stopping for a moment. "He assured me that Robert is a good man and would never do that. Having a bastard doesn't mean he is a bad man or that he will be a bad husband. Plenty of lords had that, and they were good. Even from our house.

“With all the respect I feel for Lord Arryn, he is wrong in this case, Father. Robert will never lose the habit of going to whores, and Lya will suffer for it," replied Ned, looking at his father, but before he could continue, his brother bran came, all sweeten and breathless, patting his shoulder.

“Huh…What a tilt this one was. That damn of Baelor Hightower was a hell of an opponent.”

“You are not a southern knight, son. You fight on foot like the ancient Kings. No one can beat you in that. Maybe you should try the Melee.”

His brother chuckling, said, “That’s what I intend to do. But what I now want to know little brother is, did you manage to put it inside her?” and Ned blushed at that while his father laughed.

“No, I didn’t. I like to take it slowly, but even if I did it, dear brother, it would be none of your business.”

His brother laughed, as another pair of knights clashed against each other, and then looking to the side, he saw the beautiful Ashara Dayne approach their stands.

“Lord Stark. Lord Eddard. Lord Brandon,” she greeted them with a smile, after climbing the stairs.

Lady Ashara, his father greeted her, and give a kiss to her hand, “You are as beautiful as always.”

“Thank you, Lord stark,” she replied, smiling, before looking in his direction. “Lord Eddard, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me for a walk around,” she said, smiling, and he could hear the small chuckle coming from his brother sat behind him. “Of course. If you prefer to attend the end of the joust, we can do it another time.”

“Oh no, my Lady. My brother would much rather be in your company than watch men charging at each other,” his brother replied, grinning before he could, and the lady smiled.

“With your permission, father,” Ned said, getting up and leaving the stands with the lady.

* * *

“I always said, father. He needs the one to pull him out of the shell,” Brandon said, returning his attention to the joust, seeing that it was Ser Barristan’s time to joust. And he was facing the Red Viper of Dorne. Damn Dornish. The only thing they like to do was fuck and fight, fight and fuck, and nothing elder, but the Princess was a sight to behold, as well as her hand. Lucky Ned in conquering such beauty with his shy and killing mood.

But his happy mood changed when he looked at the royal box, where Lyanna was sitting with the Queen. Damn dragons. Even last night, he didn’t like the sight of that silver-haired cunt near his sister, dancing with her and touching her.

“Father. Why did you speak with her of the behavior she had at the feast?”

“I did. But it was as speaking to the wind. She said that she doesn’t want to marry a whoremonger rapist,” his father replied, glancing between Lya and the stands of Stormlands where Robert Baratheon was sitting. “I think she got a crush on the prince.”

“Pha. I would say bewitched by the damn prince. It was a mistake to bring her here, father,” replied Brandon, anger building in him. He hopped that his sister wasn’t fool enough to give the Dragon her maidenhood in the Godswood.

He hears his father, sigh, and looking towards him, say, “I don’t know, Brandon. She was quite insistent regarding Robert wanting to force himself on her, and we both know that she isn’t a liar. She says it straight to the face without little riddles or turns.”

“Doesn’t matter father, the right man for her is Robert Baratheon, and remember that he is going to be King when the rebellion will be won,” Brandon whispered, leaning towards his father. “And he will be the best King in their hundred years of dragon ruling these lands.”

“Yes, you are right. Though, I’m worried about the king,” his father said, pointing at the royal box. “If he isn’t her means he is out there plotting against us. Tywin Lannister isn’t her, neither Mace Tyrell nor other important lords from these lands. If the king and Tywin will mend their friendship, our rebellion will be crushed immediately.”

“So, what you suggest?”

“Nothing. Because this is not the place to talk,” his father replied, turning back to the joust.

* * *

**_A few hours later..._ **

Also, the joust of today was coming to its conclusion. And tomorrow it will be holding the first day of the melee and the archers since the list of the joust was getting smaller and smaller. The sun was about to set, and only one last fight remained before everyone withdrew for the night. Her Prince and the one her father choose as her future husband.

Lyanna felt uncomfortable at sitting again in the royal box next to the Queen and Cersei Lannister glares didn’t make this situation easier.

However, the main reason why she was uncomfortable was because the king joined them and since then he kept giving her quite unpleasant glances.

He was really frightening in those kind times, however fortunately her attention was drawn to the field when the hors sounded and it was announced the prince was entering the field. This was already his sixth opponent since the beginning of the tourney, and all of them were very difficult challenges.

“Do tell me, lady Lyanna. How does it feel at seeing two men fight for your honor?” asked the king, drowning the murmurs of all who were presents, and she looked down embarrassed. “Did the wolf bit your tongue?”

“No, Your Grace. I just didn't know what to say because I don't really understand what you mean."

“Pha. The she-wolf doesn’t know what I mean,” he mocked her, before being interrupted by another pair of horns, sounding the entrance of Robert Baratheon. This time she tried to take a better look at him and saw the Lord of Storm’s end glare at Rhaegar and at her for a moment, with a face full of fury, and she feared for the prince at this moment. She knows that jousting shouldn’t be something dangerous, but Robert’s angry face said otherwise.

“I want to see the stag in the mud, _Muña_ ,” said the little prince next to them, and his mother shushed him. Lyanna glanced at the King, who was drinking wine, now, before returning her gaze to the field.

Prince Rhaegar put on his beautiful adorned helmet, and after giving her one last glance, he pulled down his visor and took the lance.

Lyanna glance at Robert too and saw his horse in agitation as he yelled at his squire to give him the lance before the horn sounded and the banner rose, therefor making the opponents clash at each other. The lances broke in hundred of pieces, as the two men were staying steady on their horse, and then taking another lance before charge again, and also this time the result was drawn again.

The third time instead it was a win for Robert, but Prince Rhaegar managed to stay steady on the horse, however holding his side. He was hurt, and Lyanna’s heart was beating so fast that she could feel it in her horse.

“ _Muña, Muña_ , Rhaegar is wounded!” shouted the little Prince Viserys, standing next to them, and glancing at them, Lyanna saw the queen hug her son and whisper reassuring words. The king himself seems to shift uncomfortably on his seat at seeing his heir get hit and maybe injured.

However, she immediately looked at the field when she hears the crowd gasp and saw Robert Baratheon on the ground rather in pain, and Rhaegar ride forward to the box. Lyanna was smiling widely as she saw _‘her Prince’_ rise his lance up in victory for this day, but then in a glimpse of a second, chaos erupted on the field as Robert Baratheon hit the prince with his hammer, knocking him from the horse.

He charged at the Prince with furry and hit him on the shield with what the prince was pairing. Prince Rhaegar managed to hit Robert on the knee, but the Stag keep attacking with furry, till she saw the Kingsguard knock the Lord of the Stormlands to the ground, take the hammer from his hand, and blocking him from any move.

The King, getting up, shouted, “I want him thrown in the dungeons of the keep in chains!” and Robert Baratheon was dragged away from the field by the Dragonkeepers, as the crowd was shocked. Then, looking at her prince, she saw him being helped to get up and escorted by the Sword of the Morning.

* * *

His ribs were hurting as he took off the heavy armour, and the chainmail, before pulling the shirt off. He saw it forming of different colours as he looked down examining. Fortunately, nothing was broken otherwise he would have been forced to retire from the tourney. Deeping a cloth in the cold water, Rhaegar palaces it on his wound, releasing a gasp at the contact. 

A small price to pay for teaching a lesson to that whoremonger of his cousin. Rhaegar really thought he was a better man, but he was wrong. And poor Lyanna, forced to wed that beast. 

Suddenly he feels arms wrap around him and light kisses been placed on his bareback, before resting the cheek on it. He knows to whom belong the kisses and the warm hands.

“You shouldn't be here my lady. If your family finds out, you will get in trouble.”

“Let them find out. I don’t care. I wanted to see and make sure you were all right.” He heard her reply through his back, and he sighed.

He slowly turned around and looked down at her. She was so beautiful. So wild. Caressing her cheeks for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for making you worried. But your favors brought me luck.”

The girl smiled, blushing, and looked down, “Maybe, but didn't protect you from getting injured.” Rhaegar smiled, lifting her face up so he could look her in the eyes. Then after a few moments, he bent down and kissing her slowly.

Everything was so perfect with her. Her soft lips against his. Her small and soft hands that were resting on his sides. The long brown hairs that he could care and would love so much to run his fingers through. They were to lovers with the only things that they were allowed to do was kissing, and he for sure wouldn't want to dishonor her.

It was she who broke this little perfect moment, who looking down said in a low voice, “My father forbid me to be near you, but I can’t.” she stopped for a moment and he could feel the growing rate of the heartbeats and didn’t know if e should hug her in reassurance or stay this way and listen to what she has to say. “Since the day in the Godswood, I started to feel something.... something that I never felt before towards a man.” Then, looking up at him she said. “I-I think I fell in love with you, Prince Rhaegar.”

He was stunned by her was and speechless, not knowing what to say how to properly reply. His throat felt thirsty and dry.

“I’m sorry, my prince. I don't know...it's better if I leave,” she said, shaking her head and heading towards the exit, but Rhaegar, grabbing her hand, stopped the girl. “Lady Lyanna, wait.”

And she turned but keep her gaze down.

Taking a long breath and looking down at her, he said, “Lady Lyanna, I….” ( _chuckle_ ) and she looked up at him, with those beautiful grey eyes that looked like the steel she is wielding. “This is a difficult moment for me because don’t really know how to express my feelings. You for sure are much braver than me in this regard.” And she giggled glancing down for a moment, before looking back up.

“I…” began Rhaegar looking up, stopping for a moment and feeling that his heart was coming out of his chest, and then adding quickly, “I feel the same for you.”

“You know, it’s not your beauty that made me fall in love that day, but your spirit,” replied Rhaegar, looking down at her and seeing a confused expression. “Don’t take me wrong, my lady, you are a very beautiful girl, but-“

“There are far more beautiful women than me,” she cut him off and looking down. “I know that I’m not as beautiful as Lady Cersei, or other southern ladies.”

“No, you aren’t. I’m an honest man, my lady, and not good with women I would say, despite others may claim that. Yes, you aren’t as beautiful as Lady Cersei,” he said, raising her chin, “but you have something that she hasn’t. Honour and a good heart. Cersei Lannister, despite her age, is a beautiful woman outside but rotten inside. She is a narcissistic woman, that cares only of herself, and treats her Ladies in waiting the worst way.”

He could see tears in her eyes, as he was looking down, and he hates himself for making her cry even if they were tears of joy, so he continued, “Your wildness and defying the rules that the society placed you on, are some of the others aspects that I love of you. You defend those who couldn’t and took arms to avenge them, and teach a lesson to those who wronged, without asking something in exchange.”

“How-“

“I saw you that evening, even though I didn’t know who you were. I was sitting near a tree with my harp enjoying the verses of the birds, and the noise of the water. It’s when I heard groans and yells that I saw a girl knocking three squires to the ground.”

“But we can’t continue this, your grace. Whatever is about to be born, we must stop it. I don't-” she started, but he stopped her and start to kiss her, gently, even though she wasn’t that gently.

“I love you,” he keeps saying between the kisses, hoping it wasn’t a dream.

* * *

“So, you are the sword of the morning,” said the northern lady that was accompanying Lyanna stark, looking him from head to toe. “I thought you were bigger considering the reputation.”

Arthur chuckled at hearing the girl's words, but nevertheless replied seriously and, jokingly, “It's not about the size, but how good you are at wielding your blade.”

“And you are good at wielding it?” she asked, approaching him, and he could beat that the girl was trying to seduce him with her moves.

“So, they say. But who knows? Maybe out there someone is better.”

“Oh, for sure,” she said a few inches from him, “Do tell me, Sword of the Morning, do you know how to wield the other one too?”

“What?” he asked, but hear a clearing of a throat and Arthur immediately moved away, seeing Prince Rhaegar with crossing arms and a smug on his face. “Prince Rhaegar.”

“Prince Rhaegar,” the northern lady gives a curtsy and a smile to the crown prince.

“You must be Lady Dacey Mormont,” Rhaegar said, giving a kiss on the knuckles. “I was eager to a She-Bear from Bear Island. Maybe one day you can come to our camp and sup with us or only with the Sword of the morning.”

“And I to meet a dragon, your grace,” the Mormont girl replied, smiling, but he could see Lyanna stark starting to fume in jealous, and say, “Come Dacey. We need to go back.”

Dacey Mormont nodded, and after glancing at him, she said, “See you around, Sword of the Morning. I will be looking eagerly to our spare.” Mand the two Northern ladies left, and only now Arthur could feel his heart beat fast.

“Well, my friend. It seems the She-bear wants to see your sword of the Morning,” Rhaegar said, laughing, walking back inside the tent, as Arthur remained in his spot, stunned and confused.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Delisiana for beta reading this chapter.

Immediately after hearing what happened on the tourney ground earlier that day between the crown prince and Robert, Rickard headed straight to Jon Arryn’s Chambers looking behind him at times, making sure he wasn't being followed as he neared the door noticing two guards standing outside the door. 

Entering he saw Jon sitting around the long wooden table with lord Tully next to him, across from them some other important lords from the Stormlands though they were few. He would need to speak with Robert once he was free to make amends with those who he had wronged.

“Lord Stark,” greeted him the Lord of the Eyrie.

“Lord Arryn,” Rickard greeted making his way towards the table, taking the free seat next to Lord Tully. “I heard what happened to Robert, what are we going to do?”

“We were just discussing such matters, and I thought it would be best if we all signed this petition to present before the king tomorrow at court. I have already collected the signatures of a few lords from the Riverlands, the Stormlands, and some Lords from the Vale.”

Rickard took the petition looking over the names already there, it wasn’t a lot, but with the signatures of three liege lords who knew Robert personally, it could work out in their favor. “You have the support of the North in this, Lord Arryn.” Placing his name along with his seal, Rickard handed the parchment back.

“We will free him, Lord Stark. And If the Mad King will still want to kill him, we will rise in rebellion.” Arryn responded, knowing everyone present here could lose their heads for talking treason.

Rickard nodded eagerly. He couldn’t wait to destroy the damn Targaryens. 

“Lord Stark, can I have a moment of your time?” 

Getting up both Rickard and Hoster walked over towards a corner of the room where no one could hear them. “My Lord. I’m deeply sorry for your loss. Lady Catelyn was a sweet and good girl, and she and Brandon would have made the perfect match if she had lived to fulfill their union.” It was a lie, but Hoster need not know how long it took just to convince Brandon on the match.

“Yes, a pity indeed, I know Cat was looking forward to being Brandon’s wife, that’s another reason why I wanted to speak with you in private. I wanted to ask if you would agree to a betrothal between Lysa and Brandon.”

“I would need to speak with Brandon first on such matters of the heart, it’s not easy to go from being betrothed from one sister to the next. These things take time, the heart needs to heal, I am sure you understand. It’s the same reason neither of us has remarried.” Rickard offered, trying to find a way out of this conversation so they could get back to Jon and finalize their next move.

* * *

**_Next day..._ **

The hall of a hundred hearths was packed that morning for court to hear the faith of what would become of Robert Baratheon. 

Rhaegar stood next to where his father sat on the dais flanked by Ser Gerold and Barristan, four other Kingsguards stood below their hands on the hilt of their swords after his father gave the order to kill anyone who got too close. While the doors were guarded by Dragonkeepers, who were ordered to take note of those who left early. His father was on a mission to bring every lord, there to heel one way or the other. 

At the corner of his eyes, he saw the lord of the Eyrie step forward with a parchment in his hand. “Your grace.” The lord bowed; “we are here to ask for mercy for Lord Robert Baratheon. He is young and impetuous your grace, seeing his betrothed dance with the crown prince in an improper way, made him lose his temper.”

“It wasn't improper, my lord,” Rhaegar retorted, feeling his dragon’s blood boil because of his statement. It wasn’t enough that lord Stark had been glaring at him with his cold grey eyes the entire time.

“Do tell me, Lord Arryn, if a minor lord tried to kill your son, would you forgive him?” His father asked causing the lord to rethink in approach.

“I have no children your grace, yet I consider Robert my own flesh. For this reason, I stand before you and beg you for mercy before the court this day. We know that you are a great king, good and just, and that is why your loyal Lords beg you to spare lord Baratheon’s life, your grace.” 

Rhaegar looked at his father, who still remained unmoved, before waiving for the parchment to be given to him. He unfolded it, reading quickly, and Rhaegar, staring at the parchment, his father held, recognizing some of the lord's names presently signed. Arryn, Royce, Tully, Stark, and a few more. Yet what happened next shouldn’t have stunned him, yet it did.

His father tore the parchment, his words colder than and winter’s day. “A list of traitors that’s what I take from all these signatures. Do tell me lord Arryn, are you a traitor?”

The lord seemed taken aback by his father’s words.

“Baratheon will die the day this tourney will end, and his head will be sent to every castle of Westeros.”

There were gasps all around, the majority were in agreement, while some were displeased.

“Your grace-“

“You are all dismissed,” the King interrupted them, and the Lords left without even bowing. This will be a great problem, Rhaegar realized, before looking at his father, he needed to fix this. “Please father, you don’t have to free Robert, but you could have him sent to the wall, otherwise, we will face a rebellion.”

“That is what I want,” the King replied, getting up and heading towards the door, followed by the Kingsguard, leaving him stunned for a moment before shaking his head, following in the king’s steps.

* * *

Rhaella was sitting in her husband's chamber, waiting for him and Rhaegar, to learn what he decided to do with Robert Baratheon when she heard the door open, immediately getting up, seeing her husband enter first, with a pleased look on his face, followed immediately by Rhaegar, and Ser Gerold.

“Father, you can’t do this, if you kill him, war will break out in the Seven Kingdoms." Aerys sat in his chair pouring himself a drink hardly paying their son any mind until he had his fill.

“War will break my prince, whether you want it or not,” Hightower retorted, standing next to the king.

Rhaella approached her husband's side with caution, “what is happening? Who is dying?”

“Robert Baratheon.”

“Good,” she replied, earning a confused look from her son which she quickly waved off, he was young and could be naive at times. “He attacked you, Rhaegar. And the grudge he has against you now because of Lyanna Stark has already made you an enemy of his can you not see it?”

“I'm not a fool mother, or naive for that matter, but killing him will only start a rebellion with the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands who would attack us from the North." He paused running a hand through his tresses, "Robert may not have all the support of the Stormlands because of laying with so many of his lord's daughters but there are still a few who remain loyal. He is well-loved by those lords.”

"Until he fucks one of their daughters," Aerys said before taking another sip of his summer wine.

Rhaella looked at Aerys, waiting to see what else he will say, but the only thing he did was gaze in the void of his wine.

“Father?”

“War is coming anyway. It's time to show Westeros that even if we lost our dragons, we still are dragons. The Stag will die at the end of this tourney. With fire and blood.” He was done with this conversation and would sooner have Ser Gerold throw his son out of his chamber to give him peace with his inner thoughts, missing the smell of burnt flesh whilst thinking if he should wait and burn Robert at the Red Keep.

“Father, please if war breaks out, we would be surrounded by enemies." He looked at his mother pleading to her, she was always the voice of reason, the only other person who could convince his father into having second thoughts. “Mother?”

“He is right, Rhaegar. We cannot show mercy towards someone who attacked the crown prince, even if Robert is family.”

“But -"

“Enough. Leave now. All of you,” the king said without looking up." Rhaegar was the first out the door followed by Ser Gerold. Yet Rhaella stayed behind, she had nothing to lose in trying to find out more of his plans. “Are you deaf? I said to leave.”

“We need to talk,” she said, sitting down in front of him. 

“Talk, talk, and talk. I would say you should put that mouth of yours to better use than talking.”

Rhaella ignored his words, she had already surrendered her body to him earlier that day and the night before. “Robert Baratheon needs to die. I agree with you, your grace. But I would say we should decide how and the best moment to do it." She circled behind him, running her delicate hand on his chest, "maybe more enemies will be revealed, plus we could always find future allies from those willing to sell their lords out for gold or more power.”

“ _I have a Thousand Eyes, and One_ to watch my enemies, why should I listen to what you have to say about this situation?” He asked looking behind straight into her indigo eyes.

“When you found out that Tywin Lannister was behind our children's death and my suffering, you asked for my forgiveness for how you treated me in the past twenty years. Do you remember what I told you, dear husband? I told you only if we ruled the seven Kingdoms together as equals.”

“And? Have I not kept most of my promise?"

No, you have not, she wanted to retort, but that was a discussion for another day. "Any decision regarding the future of our family isn't only yours.”

“You are overstepping, sweet sister.”

“Maybe. But you agreed to that. After all, when Steffon died, you said that there was no one else that could be trusted in Kings Landing, except me, as we were the last Dragons should something happen to our sons.”

He looked at the side for a moment, “speak freely.”

* * *

After leaving his parents alone, Rhaegar needed some time away from Harrenhal, to clear his head least he punches a hole into the wall of his chamber. Sitting in the Godswood under a Weirwood tree seemed to calm him down, made him think clearly while he plucked a few strings of the small harp he took everywhere with him when he needed peace, always returning with a new song after.

“Too many thoughts, my prince?”

Looking up, he saw the She-wolf of Winterfell, standing a few feet in front of him. Letting his eyes roam over her freely noticing how beautiful she looked in a grey and blue dress, a dark cloak over her shoulder, while her hair was free of any braids, flowing freely in the soft breeze.

Rhaegar smiled, putting the harp aside as she drew closer towards him. "You would be thinking hard also if you had a father like mine who preferred plunging the kingdom into war."

Lyanna grimaced at his words, knowing her father was doing the same for his ambitions.

“Where is your swornshield?” Rhaegar asked, not seeing lady Mormont with her.

“A few steps away, I would say she is probably trying to get the sword of the morning right now into her bed later,” Lyanna teased causing Rhaegar to chuckle imagining how flushed red Arthur must be at this very moment.

Lyanna picked up the prince's golden harp, running her hand over the three small dragons with red eyes before turning once more to him. "Were you writing a new song, why you were so deep in thought? Or were your thoughts filled only with your father's royal decree?"

He helped move her hand along the strings, "It helps me to relax and think clearly,” he replied sighing. “It's also what I do when I’m visiting Summerhall needing time for myself away from court.”

"How is it there?” she asked, placing her head on his shoulder, which surprised him, but a good surprise.

"It’s a ruined castle, maybe like Harrhenal but worse. It’s sad and haunted. But peaceful. Especially at night. Sometimes I like to sleep there, in those ruined halls, beneath the moon and the stars, dreaming about what it was before the fire that killed so much of my family. I sometimes imagine the balls that were thrown there, all lords and ladies dancing. Then there are times I dream of dragons. I dream of flying on the back of a red dragon towards the sun.”

“And the Ladies? What do they look like?" Rhaegar didn’t know if she was feigning jealousy or only curiosity. 

“Well, I would say that they are lovely like the southern flowers,” Rhaegar replied, feeling her lift her head from his shoulder, “but none of them are as wild as winter roses.” She had such a wide and beautiful smile right then, that he was sure would have melted the coldest of hearts. 

Seeing her grey steel eyes turn glossy with fresh unshed tears, made Rhaegar lowered his head down to kiss her, trying to not overstep, keeping his primordial instinct to devour her at bay. He knew to what end a deflowered lady went through with their family and didn't want that for his She-wolf. 

However, he needed to ask something of her that weighed heavily on his heart. “The feelings you feel for me, do you feel them for the man or the Prince and the crown he wears?”

That question made her immediately withdraw a few inches away, causing him to miss the closeness of her touch. “How can you ask me something like that?” 

Rhaegar hated himself for upsetting her, yet when she tried to get up and leave her, he stopped her, wrapping his arms around her small waist, and bringing her onto his lap, clashing her against his chest. “I’m sorry for saying that,” he whispered against her ear. “But it's just that all my life the women, high born or low born, only saw and wanted one thing in me, a crown. It was difficult for me to believe that there was someone who loved only the man behind the crown, which is a mask.”

Lyanna didn't reply, staying in silence for a while and looking down, but in the end, he heard her say in a low voice, barely a whisper, “it's not with the prince that I fell in love with that day, but with the man that saved my life, that examined my wound, that kept my identity in secret. When I was dancing that night at the feast it was with the man that I did, not the prince, despite telling myself otherwise.” She stopped to take some air, and he could feel her heartbeat fast as a quick charging riding pace towards a battle. “But I understand if your feelings changed because of that.”

“Sweet Lyanna,” he said, closing his eyes, tightening her body to his chest, and taking a sniff of her pleasant scent of winter and wildness. “I would rather lose my crown before my feelings for you change or fade. Because in all my life I never met a girl like you.”

“We are doomed, aren't we?” she said, tilting her head so she could look at him, her lips were a few inches from his. “Just as the mighty Valyria was destroyed by a cataclysm, our love will soon be destroyed by another cataclysm.”

“Only if we allow it,” Rhaegar said, before bending down and kissing her slowly, with one hand holding her back and the other resting on her belly.

“What in the seven Hells are you doing with my sister, bastard?” Immediately breaking apart with widened eyes, at seeing who was in front of them.

“Lord Brandon. It's not what you think,” Rhaegar replied, getting up, where was Arthur? 

“What I think? What I think is that you seduced my sister and took her maidenhead! You dishonored my sister!” He shouted, unsheathing his sword. “The people already call her the whore of the dragon prince behind her back and this situation only confirms it. 

“Nothing happened!” Lyanna said with snarled her hackles raised, stepping between them. “I'm still a virgin, unlike you.”

“Put your sword down Stark or I will open you up from your cock to your throat,” came the warning voice of the Sword of the Morning. 

“Your prince will be dead before you even strike.”

“Try me if you dare, Stark. Let’s see whose hand is faster,” Arthur said, with confidence and without even blinking at the treat.

“I’m here for my sister. Come Lyanna,” the heir of Winterfell said, stretching his arm, but never lowering his sword.

Lyanna turned in her spot, stood up on her toes, giving Rhaegar a passionate kiss pouring all her affection into it.

Rhaegar glanced at Brandon for a quick moment, seeing him turn red in rage, before wrapping his she-wolf up into his arms, enjoying the last moments of their kiss.

Lyanna moved away from him licking the lower part of her lips, savoring his taste, as Brandon grabbed her hand, backing away with his sword still pointing towards him as they left the Godswood.

“Well, it seems you love to dance with wolves, my friend,” Arthur said, placing Dawn back on his back, approaching his friend.

“And you to dance with the bears.” He replied never taking his eyes from the She-wolf in the distance. He hoped that her father would not be cruel towards her once he got wind of what transpired here.

* * *

Cersei searched for Prince Rhaegar all over Harrhenal for almost half a day, but could not find him until she was informed that Brandon Stark was dragging his sister Lyanna Stark towards the Keep, in rage, and she realised where her prince was. That northern bitch for sure seduced her silver-haired Prince, and Cersei was furious. Rhaegar was hers, hers, and no one else.

She stayed at the entrance if the Godswood for half an hour, waiting for him to appear, and then she saw him in all his glory, coming towards the gates, holding the reins of the horse, and looking down, with The Sword of the Morning next to him. He was wearing a black tunic embodied with gold line, and the three headed dragon displayed on his chest. Red and proud. One day her sliver haired Prince will cover her up with his clock, and her before the Seven in the High Temple of Baelor.

“Prince Rhaegar,” she greeted him with a curtsey, bringing his attention on her.

“Oh. Lady Cersei. I didn’t notice you. Was too immersed in my thoughts,” the prince replied, and she smiled shaking her head. “Doesn’t matter. I was wondering If we could spend some time together."

“I'm sorry, my lady, but today is not a good day. Another time maybe," said the Prince, resuming his walk, leaving a stunned and speechless Cersei. What just happened? No one has ever said no to there or refused to spend a moment with her. That Stark whore must have bewitched him, otherwise, he would have never been so rude with her.

She will have to have a word with her father regarding this and make sure that the King doesn’t change his mind about the marriage.

* * *

Lyanna was sitting on her bed, with her father standing, but a few feet away, gazing at her with his grey steel judgmental eyes. The moment Brandon dragged her into her room, her father was informed of what happened, and so was Ned.

“I’m disappointed in you Lyanna. I thought we were clear regarding the prince,” her father said with coldness in his voice. He was keeping his anger at bay; she could feel it. “All the things that have happened in the few past days is because of you, it's all your fault, and now a great man and lord will die because of you.”

"That fault lies with Robert, not with me, father, it is not my fault his pride was wounded. Because only a madman would attack the crown prince after getting thrown in the dust like a crying little girl,” Lyanna retorted hearing Brandon chuckle, she could see Ned also was trying to hide his smile away from their father. 

“Quite you foolish girl. Do you think this is a game? Open your eyes daughter, your precious prince will be a madman just like his father.”

“You call him a madman and yet I didn't see any madness in him,” Lyanna replied, defending the King, even though who she really was defending was her prince. She didn't care about the king. “If he is mad, dear father, then you are madder than him, considering that you don't see what is happening right in front of you.”

"I saw enough. You gave your maidenhead to the dragonspawn and now no one will want to marry you, congratulations Lyanna you've won!”

“Father-“ Ned tried to intervene but was cut off by their father's glare.

“The prince wants me-" 

“The prince will marry Cersei Lannister, living a long and happy life, while you will forever be called the dragon's whore because he deflowered you.”

"We have never done that," she said with clenched teeth and looking him straight in the eye. "But if it happened, you should feel lucky in having a royal bastard for a grandchild."

Rage was clearly displayed on his face, as her father raised his hand to hit her, but stopped midway, widening his eyes, breathing fast as he clenched his fist moving away from her mumbling something under his breath, as he bit into his fist, causing Lyanna to wonder what will be her fate now that Robert will die. _Who will she be forced to marry next for her father's ambitions?_

* * *

Elia walked through the hallways of the gloomy fortress many believed cursed, her arms wrapped around her middle, in search of Ashara. She needed her friend’s advice on what to do with the constant pressure from her brother Doran wanting her to seduce the Crown Prince one way or another or she'd never set foot in Dorne again. 

So lost in her thoughts, not realizing she was bumping into another until she felt strong arms catching her by the waist before she could fall hard against the ground, as steel grey eyes stared into her dark eyes with mischief. 

She opened her mouth to speak, yet no word came out. She knew him, how could she not when so many other maidens were fawning over the tall rugged northern lord with the good looks. Even her.

He helped her stand up straight as Elia tried to recover from the situation at hand without feeling like some helpless maid, as she fixed her blue myrish laced dress back into place. “I’m sorry Lord Brandon, I wasn't looking where I was going.”

“It is nothing to worry over Princess. It was a pleasure to catch you midway." He smiled a toothy smile, causing her heart to pick up in speed as if she ran here trying to get away from someone, or better yet her brother's scroll.

"Is this how you charm all maidens? Hiding in dark hallways just to be bumped into?"

"Maybe I was waiting for you, to have a chance to hold you again in my arms,” Brandon replied, still grinning, causing Elia to roll her eyes, remembering that he was a hot-head, and not shy like his younger brother, Eddard. 

“Where are you heading, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“I was searching for my lady in waiting.” 

“Oh, are you referring to that sweet lady with dark hair and violet eyes, who succeeded where many have failed to get my brother out of his shell?" 

“Yes, the same one. Have you seen her? Can you point me towards where I can find her? It is of great importance."

"Well, in that case, allow me to accompany you in your quest," Brandon remarked, boldly wrapping his arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him, she could just imagine the rumors that would swirl about them once someone saw the two.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to my beta reader Delisianna.

Elia woke in a pleasant mood that morning feeling the rays of the sun against her olive skin causing it to glow in its warmth, as she readied herself with the help of her handmaidens looking forward to seeing the melee that day, and the wild wolf Brandon Stark probably make a fool of himself.

Feeling a small smile creep over her lips recalling their many walks along the grounds and rampant of Harranhall knowing she was already falling for the Stark heir, something she knew would displease her older brother and head of their house who sought to have Martell's blood sit upon the iron throne by any means necessary, least she not bother returning to Sunspear or Dorne for that matter.

The nerve of him, Elia thought annoyed with herself for the circumstances she now found herself in knowing none of the charms she'd used on the crown prince has worked in her favor.

"You should wear this today princess," one of her handmaidens mused pulling Elia away from her worried thoughts as the summer islander twirled in the dress she held running her hands across the plunging neckline of the red myrish laced gown styled in Pentoshi fashion.

"I would much rather wear something in the color gray," Elia answered annoyed stepping out of the tub as another one of her handmaidens wrapped her in a sheer robe moving her over towards to looking glass to prepare her hair for that day as she watched the confused look on the coppered skinned woman who still held up her dress knowing fully well there was nothing in the princess's trunks that was of that color.

Sighing to herself not wanting to cause the woman any distress on the matter in trying to find her lady a gray dress on such short notice, "One of the many gold ones will do, Nohia," Elia said pausing only to allow another of her handmaidens to paint her lips crimson red as she puckered her thin lips wishing they were a little more plumper before turning back to the summer islander who still awaited to see which gold dress her princess preferred. "Any dress will do, I think it would be much more fitting to wear my house color on this fine day."

Elia watched as the handmaiden bowed before stepping back into the antechamber no doubt in search of the perfect dress.

* * *

Walking through the candlelit hallways deep in her thoughts, wondering which path she should take when it comes to her heart wondering if the path her brother wanted her to take would be the best for her knowing both her and the prince would hold no love for each other. Their marriage would not be one for the songs about the fired dragon who fell for the sun princess. No, there's would be a song of duty and nothing else something she knew she wanted not of. Where some may have no problem being locked down in a marriage of no passion, she wanted the opposite. To love and be loved was a song of its own, the melding of two hearts where the sun could shine bright in the darkness of the cold, bring warmth to a place that only knew the cold. Suddenly grey wolfish eyes and a mischievous grin flashed before her eyes causing Elia to stop in her path knowing the wild wolf had already started chipping away at her heart.

“Princess Elia," a voice she recognized called to her, "are you well my lady?"

"I am well your grace" Elia inhaled deeply curtsying before the prince before rising and acknowledging sers Arthur and Oswell who were always by the crown prince side like the shadows they were. “Are you heading to the tourney your grace?” she asked clasping her wary hands in front of her.

“Yes, but only to observe,” he replied, with his arms wrapped behind him smiling.

He was truly indeed a handsome man, with his long curly silver locks and deep indigo eyes that sometimes seemed black like obsidian. But despite that, she did not feel that pull for him as she did for another. Instead, she tried to compare him to someone else, with his cheeky and almost Dornish-like manner, while the prince seemed more shy and melancholic.

“Will you give me permission to accompany you to the melee?" Rhaegar asked holding his arm out for her to take.

Smiling in return Elia took his arm into hers as they walked along the halls speaking of the weather since there was nothing else to point out along the path they took towards the courtyard for the day's festivities.

They were walking through the courtyard towards the main gates of Harrhenal, with the eyes of everyone on them. Where she saw Oberyn deep in conversation with a few of their guards, before one-pointed in her direction, causing her younger brother to look between her and Rhaegar, a smirk layered across his lips and dark eyes, no words needed to be spoken until they saw each other later that day.

"I bet after this walk, the rumors about us will be all everyone speaks about," she jokingly said, breaking the silence, and glancing at Rhaegar as he was stared ahead.

"They will, but I am not worried about them. And you shouldn't be worried either," he answered seriously, glancing at her, before looking forward. "It is another rumor that has me worried."

"Which one your grace?" 

"With all respect, Princess Elia, I don't want to reveal them. That person is significant to me and I don't want to see them getting hurt by anyone."

Elia wondered for a moment who that person may be until she remembered the night of the first feast where Rhaegar danced with the young Lyanna Stark.

* * *

Brandon was crossing the great courtyard of the cursed fortress, to head towards the field of the tourney and attend the melee, when he heard his name-calling and turning around, he saw the Red Viper of Dorne approaching him with an air of arrogance like most other southern lords. "I've heard rumors that you took an interest in my sister. Is that true?" the Red Viper asked, with his strange Dornish accent once he was a few inches from him.

Not replying right away, Brandon stared the man down eyeing especially his hands to see if he in the case has some hidden blade, but nothing, so smirking he replied, trying to be as jokingly as possible, "Yes. I'm sure the envious maidens have spread gossip about a moment that many will think were too overstepped."

“And was it too overstepped?” 

“Depend on what you mean by overstepping, Prince Oberyn. Fucking septas is too overstepping? Taking the maidenhood of Ladies is too overstepping?”

The prince didn't reply, just staring at him emotionless, and Brandon was sure that he hit some sensitive and true spots with this revelation. But taking a step closer, he said, “But if you wonder if I took her against one of the walls, then the response is no. Just wrapped an arm around her and prised my manhood. Good day, prince.” Moving away, grinning to himself. 

* * *

Tywin was heading towards the dungeons of Harrhenal where the lord of the Stormlands helped. He was surprised that Aerys didn't kill, but maybe after many years he had lost his touch, or maybe it was a favor to Steffon. That damn fool. If only he had accepted his proposal of an alliance against the crown, now he would have been alive. 

As he was walking through the cells, Tywin could smell the stench of death and despair inside them, and upon reaching his destination, he saw the so-called Dragonkeepers at the door.

“Lord Tywin. What brings you down here?”

“I want to see the prisoner,” He replied with coldness and determination. 

“You can’t,” replied the man. 

“I can’t? Who are you soldier that dares to address a high lord with such arrogance and disrespect."

“We are the Dragonkeepers and the King commanded us to let no one see and speak with the prisoner,” replied the man, placing the hand on the dagger at his right side.

Hearing that, Tywin approached him, and in a rather menacing tone, said, "I hope you remember the stories about Castamere because your families will end up the same way".

"We have no families, my lord. Now, with all respect, I ask you to leave," the man replied in a challenging way too, and Tywin glanced at the other soldiers who had their spears ready to attack, and so Tywin backed away, leaving the dungeons with an unhappy mood, and heading to his rooms. He needs to send an act of revenge to Genna and Jamie.

Upon entering, Tywin saw his daughter waiting for him, as he sighed in annoyance, closing the door, knowing perfectly why she was here. 

“Father. We need to talk,” 

“Not now, Cersei,” he replied, moving to the table, sitting down at the chair, and taking scroll, pen, and ink, starting to write. 

“Father. I saw the Prince walking arm in arm with that Dornish whore that they call a Princess,” his daughter said leaning against the table, looking down at him, as he keeps ignoring her. “Father?”

“And?” 

“And? What do you mean by and?” she asked with confusion clearly in her voice.

“Why are you telling me this, Cersei?” he asked without looking up from the scroll which was far more important than his daughter’s childish behavior.

“Father you promised me that I will be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms next to Prince Rhaegar? The whore-“

“Enough with this childish behavior, Cersei!” he said, raising his voice, and making her jolt. “If I said that you will be the queen then you will be. I don’t care if he speaks with women, or if he beds her. Right now, I have better things to do than dealing with your whims.”

“But father?”

“Leave, Cersei,” he said again, taking another scroll, as he hears the door slam. 

* * *

The melee went on for three hours. Near forty men took part, free-riders and hedge knights and new-made squires in search of a reputation, and from what she understood from her brother, maybe new members of the Kingsguard since there is one place available.

“What do you think of this green boy, sweet sister? Is anyone of them worthy to join the brotherhood?” asked her brother leaning.

“I would say they are quite skillful, your grace. Though, since they fought with blunted weapons, I don’t know how good they can be said to be.”

“Yes. Like a bunch of brats,” the king replied annoyed. “I would much prefer to spend my time in another place.” And hearing it, Rhaella, rolled her eyes, knowing perfectly what he was meaning, but asked, “And where it is the place, your grace?”

“Inside the keep, and planning our revenge,” he replied, and she saw him glare at every lord who was sitting in the crowd.

Rhaella asked nothing else returning her attention to the yard and seeing the old knight Yohan Royce triumphant between the fray. All around him there was a chaos of mud and blood. She may non be a Maester, but Rhaella could see that there were broken limbs, shattered collarbone, a dozen smashed fingers, wounded horses that for sure had to be put down, and more cuts, sprains, and bruises. She was glad that Rhaegar didn’t join the melee, and she hoped that in the future Viserys would like his brother. 

"Well, it seems that the old war veterans still have a lot to teach to these green boys," laughed the king as he stood up. "Crowd. Here is your champion of the melee. Ser Yohn Royce, Lord of Runestone. Give him the prize." 

And Rhaella saw a little coffer with coin brought to the Lord for the victory. The knight willingly accepted and walked away, while the king stretched his back, before holding his hands towards her, without saying anything, and Rhaella, knowing that it was time to go, got up and took it, heading back to the Keep. 

"Aren't you afraid that he will use that gold against you, dear brother?" whispered Rhaella, as they were crossing the courtyard.

"It's not real," was the only thing he said, and Rhaella, even if she was confused had no intention of asking furthermore.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Even if he wasn’t the one to win the melee but that old Bronze Yohn, Brandon was very happy to have seen that cunt of Oberyn Martell with his mouth full of dirt and a broken nose. And now he has one more argument to use against him. 

But after that long action that he loved, Brandon wanted to take a long walk through the Godswood to cool his mind and think about what his father told him before the melee. Lysa Tully. The girl indeed was a beauty, not as much as her sister was, but still enough to be a pleasant sight to behold during a fuck. Slender, high-breasted, and dimpled. But still, besides the so-called beauty and the great pleasure she may give him, there was something in her that didn’t attract him.

Suddenly he was brought from his thoughts by the screams of women coming from the deepest of the Godswood, who were calling for help, and he immediately rushed in that way, to see what was happening. 

When he reached the destination, Brandon saw a big man trying to force himself on a crying woman, and another one was holding Ashara Dayne by the neck, and with a knife.

If Ashara Dayne was there, that meant the woman on the ground was the Princess of Dorne. So, charging at the big man with full force, like a bull, Brandon managed to knock him down and starting to hit the face. But that beast of a man seems not to feel his powerful punches and managed to throw him away.

With a roar, the man got up and charged at him with full force, knocking him to the ground and starting to hit him on the sides with punches that seemed like thousands of falling stones from a high mountain, before turning his attention to the face, which Brandon tried to pair but one got it straight and left him stunned 

  
  


As the big men that attacked Elia were hitting Ned's brother, the one that was holding her started to lose the grip of her neck, and the nearness of the knife, giving her the possibility to use her hidden blade and stab him through the tunic.

The man collapsed to the ground, holding with one hand the wound and with the other try to strike her, but she managed to avoid it, running to her Princess, who was on the ground. 

“Princess Elia,” she bends and wrapping her arms, as the woman was crying against her chest, as the beast of a man was hammering the heir of Winterfell on the side and the face. Then suddenly she heard, “You Dornish whore! You will pay-“ he couldn’t finish that an arrow pierced his neck, killing him, and looking in the direction, Ashara saw it was Prince Rhaegar with a bow in hand, right before throwing it aside and charging at the big men.

The Prince immediately stroke the man with a slash on the side, making him release a scream of pain mixed with a roar, before getting up in rage and turning to the Prince. When that beast of a man started to charge at the young Prince, the dragon started to run away, droving the mad man deep and deep into the Godswood.

In the meantime, Elia escaped her grip and crawled in tears quickly to the Wild Wolf, and Ashara herself, quickly got up to approach the body. She really hoped that someone will come in their search. Maybe Ned or her brother.

* * *

Rhaegar tried to lure the Mountain in the deepest of the Godswood and away from the woman and the Stark heir, but now as he was hiding behind one of the trees and with Blackfyre draw, he lost sight of the Mountain.

As he was peeking from behind it, Rhaegar hear a roar, and a small tree being thrown at him, and which he, fortunately, managed to dodge. 

The beast of a man was enraged, and with his bare hands he rips out a tree and charged at him, swinging the object like a club, trying to hit him, and Rhaegar dodged and paired what he could pair, but the big man was damn strong, with the result that one strike made him lose his sword.

“Why are you doing this, Clegane?” asked Rhaegar, dogging the attacks, and hiding behind trees, trying to figure a way in how to get the sword from the ground in time. 

The big man hit the tree, shattering the one he had in his hands, and realizing a long and angry roar, which give Rhaegar the possibility to Run towards Blackfyre, pick it from the ground, and turn in time to pierce the man trough the belly.

The strike seemed not to affect him, as he grabbed him by the neck, trying to choke him, but Rhaegar, managing to free himself, moved a bit away, before cutting his head. The lifeless body of Gregor Clegane fell to the ground almost making shake it, as Rhaegar backed away to lean against a tree, breathing fast.

“My Prince!” he heard Arthur’s voice came and saw him and some member of the Dragonkeepers follow him, “Are you all right, my Prince?”

“Yes,” Rhaegar replied, swallowing. “Just a bit tired. How are the ladies and Brandon Stark?”

“They are all right but very scared. Brandon Stark was brought to the Maester as we spoke,” replied his friend, and Rhaegar nodded, cleaning his sword, and sheathing it back. 

“The king will want to know what happened, and will call a meeting,” Arthur said, looking at the dead body.

“Or the other way. Come, Arthur, let’s hurry up and prevent the starting of a war between these walls.”

He was sure that as soon as news of what happened will reach Lord Stark and Oberyn Martell the chaos will blow up in Harrhenal.

* * *

**A few hours later…**

The king was sitting on the great seat of the lord, gazing with his deep purple eyes at those who were present in the hall of hundreds of hearts. The queen standing on his right side while the heir on his left side and the Kingsguard deployed on the sides but bellow them ready to defend the royal family from any attack. 

The dusk outside was making this hall even more gloomy and cold as usual and Ned tightened the cloak around himself as he was standing on the side part of the Northern-Dornish, the one who was wronged by the two lords of the Westerlands, while the Old Lion with his lords and supporters was on the other side.

“So, Tywin of House Lannister, you have been summoned before the crown to answer for the attack of your two lords, Ser Gregor Clegane and Armory Lorch who attacked two Dornish ladies trying to deflower them,” the King said, adding the last part with a bit of sarcasm, and almost laugh, which was making him get angry a bit.

“Yes. That is what I heard. But I also heard that the Prince brought the king's justice on my Lord, Ser Gregor Clegane, so I don't understand why we are gathered here,” Tywin Lannister said, looking straight at him. Ned could see the coldness, the evilness, a calculating mind behind those pale green eyes that hold the glimpse of gold in it. 

“We want retribution for what happened, Lannister!” shouted Oberyn Martell, stepping forward, but was stopped by the guards who stepped in the middle. 

“Retribution!” shouted one from the Lannister side. “You already had retribution. Ser Gregor and Ser Armory are both dead!

“They tried to rape two ladies of Dorne. One is a Princess of House Martell, the other of House Dayne, two of the oldest and highest families of Westeros. If it weren’t for Lord Stark’s intervention, the act would have been done!”

“Then we thank Lord Brandon for his prominent intervention,” the lion said almost mockingly, “but I will give no retribution for something that had already be done. Remember that I lost two bannerman too today. Very loyal and dutiful. And since we only heard one version, and can’t hear the other, the trial is done.”

“Done?! Nothing will be done till I won’t put my spear up your ass, Lannister!” shouted the arrogant Prince Oberyn, but his father, approaching the King said, “What is your decision, my King? "Will you let this go unpunished?"

“The Prince brought the King’s justice on the knight Ser Gregor Clegane. As I was informed the two ladies have still their virtue, while your sone only a few broken ribs. I would say a good price for stupid bravery,” the King said, and Ned could see the glimpse of a smirk on his face. “As for Lord Lannister, I say that…he can go.”

“Your grace? This is unacceptable!” 

“Is it? Well, it’s my final decision, Lord Stark. Do not try to cross a line where you may lose your head,” the King said, getting up, and his father after a bow stormed out the hall, with all the other Lords.

* * *

They were in the depths of Godswood, with the sun already down. They came to this sacred place to plot against the king, tired of his mistreatments and especially because of what happened. It was too much, and he was sure that Tywin Lannister did that.

"This can no longer continue, Lord Arryn. If Robert was king, this would have never happened," replied angrily.

“I know Lord stark, but how do you suggest to free him? The King placed the newly restored order of the Dragonkeepers,” replied Jon Arryn, sighing, and glancing down for a moment.

“During the last day of the tourney. When the eyes of Harrhenal will be on the champion, we will send men without banners to free Robert. Once that happens, Lord Hoster will help him leave the Riverlands,” said Rickard, nodding toward Hoster Tully, who strangely remained silent throughout the entire time of his conversation with Arryn.

“Lord Tully?”

“Yes, yes. I will help him, but before this happen, I want to ask, is it worth the risk?” the lord of Riverrun replied. “If the plan doesn’t work, the king will want our heads on a spike. The king has her at least a hundred good men, and the army of the Crownlands may be on us in a fortnight. Our army instead would never come in time.”

“He would never dare to do that. Not here. Not in Riverlands,” replied Rickard sure of the victory they may gain her if the king attacks them. 

The Lord of the Riverrun didn’t reply, looking down with hands behind his back.

Silence dropped over them with the only thing that could be heard was the rustle of the tree leaves but was Jon Arryn the one to break it. 

"We would act that day. By the end of the year, house Targaryen will fall. I advise you Lord Tully to send your daughter Lysa to visit Brandon."

“I will,” Tully replied, leaving them alone, and once Rickard saw that the Lord of Riverrun could no longer be seen, said, “If Tully betrays us, we would not have the numbers to win the war against the crown.”

“He won’t. And soon Robert will be King and your daughter as queen,” replied Arryn, smiling, and Rickard nodded, though he knew it would be tough to make see her that this is the best thing for her. A man like Robert was the best for her.

“Lord Stark is she still a maiden I hope,” said Arryn, bringing him back from his taught as they started to walk.

“She is. And I want to send her back to the north before the end of the tourney. OR at least away from Harrhenal.”

Arryn nodded, and they resumed to walk.

* * *

Elia was patching in her room, still overwhelmed and shocked by what had happened. When Oberyn found out, he wanted to go straight to the chambers of the old Lion and stab him with his spear, but she made him give up, saying that they don’t know if it was him the sender of the two knights.

But in addition to that, there was something else that haunted her mind. And it was about the condition of the man who saved her life and reputation. Brandon Stark. If he didn't intervene, Elia was sure that they wouldn't have survived the day.

Looking outside, she saw that it was already dark, but her brother hasn't come back yet. Either the meeting with the King lasted longer than expected or he is with some whore. He was supposed to come here to inform them about Brandon Stark's condition, but it seems he forgot.

Tired of waiting for Oberyn, Elia took a fur coat, as it was quite cold around there, and headed for the door.

"Where are you going, Princess Elia?" Ashara asked, immediately getting up from the bed. "Your brother hasn't come back yet."

"To hell with Oberyn. I must know how he is and if he is still alive," answered Elia, opening the door, but she was immediately stopped by Ser Arthur. "Get out of my way, Ser."

"No. I cannot, Princess. The king's orders. He asked for me to never leave your side till the end of this tourney."

“My side? If it’s that the case then you can accompany me to Lord Brandon’s chambers,” she said, bypassing him and increasing the patch, hearing her being called by the two Dayne.

When she reached her destination, Elia saw Eddard Stark came out of the chambers, and she immediately rushed towards him, “Lord Eddard. How is he?” 

“Alive,” the man only said, before stepping aside to let her in. Elia took a long breath, before placing her trembling hand on the handle, and slowly opening it, hearing a groan of pain inside. Pecking from behind the door, she saw that the Maester was there at the moment, and next to the bed there was Lord Brandon’s sister.

“May I come in?” Elia asked, and the stark girl immediately got up, and the Maester turned towards her, with a bow, while Brandon Stark, chuckling said, “Well, finally a pretty face came to visit me. I was tired of this old wreck.” But immediately started to cough. 

Elia smiled, closing the door, and as he approached the bed she asked, "How is he Maester?".

"He has some broken ribs and scratches on his face. But nothing that time cannot heal," replied the Maester.

“Get some rest, brother,” the stark girl said, smiling, and starting to head towards the door, and leaving them alone inside. She would have wanted to speak with the girl, know her better, but now seems not to be the right moment.

Silence dropped on them, with the only thing that was breaking it was the crackling of the wood-burning from the fire in the fireplace. The room was very heated, and the fur coat she was wearing at that moment increased, even more, the warmth of her body almost as if she was in her homeland.

"I know I'm not a great looker, Princess, but will you really spend all your time standing there avoiding me?" said Brandon Stark.

Elia chuckled, looking down for a moment, and taking off the fur coat, she approached the bed and sat in the chair where his sister was sitting.

“How are you feeling, my Lord?” 

“like shit, I would say. My ribs hurt. My head hurts. and my view is somewhat blurred," he answered, and Elia looked down knowing that what happened to him was her fault. "But not blurred enough to not make me admire your beauty." And hearing that her heart lit up with a strange sensation, and her cheeks became warm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, squeezing her fists.

"Don't be. It's not your fault that I’m in this bed,” the man replied, trying to raise a bit, but only to groan and squeeze his teeth, and Elia immediately wanted to help him, but Brandon Stark rose his hand and she sat back. “Besides, I may be a brutish Northman, but in front of a lady in distress I will never hesitate to rescue her."

Elia looked at him for a moment, trying to see if the northern brutish could be seen in his expression, but nothing. The story she heard about the north seems to be wrong. Well, almost wrong, but she replied, “I don’t think of you as a brutish Northman.”

“No? And do tell me what you truly think of me, sweet princess, since the moment of our meeting, it was only me the one to chant my great qualities.”

“In bed,” she added giggling, before even realizing, and therefore blushing.

“Yes. I see you have a good memory, Princess.”

“Yes, I do. And we both should never forget that in the end, we both need to thank the one that saved both of our lives. Prince Rhaegar.”

“Yes. That little silver-haired cunt. Damn him. Now I will be in debt,” Brandon Stark groaned, as he tried to shift in a better position. “Do you know how to sing, Princess?” 

“What?” 

“A song. Can you sing me a song? I need to clear my head and raise my mood.”

“I-“

“Sing me a Dornish one. I need something cheerful because the only thing my sister did was reading about the damn silver-haired cunts.”

“Well, I will say I know only one. My brother thought me the Dornishman’s wife. But I don’t think-“

“Go with it, Princess,” the man said eagerly, before realizing a painful groan followed by a murmuring ‘fuck.’ 

Taking a long breath, and hoping to remember it, Elia started to sing that song, that wasn’t suitable for a Princess or a lady, but that Oberyn loved it a lot, since he feet that character of the song.

_The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun,_

_and her kisses were warmer than spring._

_But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel,_

_and its kiss was a terrible thing._

_The Dornishman's wife would sing as she bathed,_

_in a voice that was sweet as a peach,_

_But the Dornishman's blade had a song of its own,_

_and a bite sharp and cold as a leech._

_As he lay on the ground with the darkness around,_

_and the taste of his blood on his tongue,_

_His brothers knelt by him and prayed him a prayer,_

_and he smiled and he laughed and he sang,_

_"Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done,_

_the Dornishman's taken my life,_

_But what does it matter, for all men must die,_

_and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife!"_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the ending part. You won't like it.

Today was the last day of the tourney and tomorrow, they all will leave this place, and to be honest she couldn’t wait. Lyanna just left her brother with the Prince of Dorne Elia Martell, heading to her chambers to get ready for the tourney. She doesn’t know why the woman is visiting her brother, sitting next to his bed, keeping him company, reading, and especially as she heard them, plenty of times laughing, despite her brother always groaning.

Lyanna was aware of the reason why the princess was here, but still, she couldn't understand her behavior towards Brandon and why she spends time with Brandon and not with the Prince since he is her prey. Was it a sort of gratitude for what he did in the Godswood? Or was it because she felt guilty for what happened?

She felt a fit of certain jealousy towards the Princess of Dorne, knowing the reason why she was here. Why all the other high-born ladies beside her were here. Princess Elia was a fair maiden, with the blood of the dragon flowing through her veins. A proper lady and definitely a good choice as future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, compared to her who was young and wild. Blood of the wolf.

Suddenly she was pulled into a corner and pinned against a wall with soft lips starting to kiss her, as she had closed eyes. Lyanna knew who it was, and allowed it for a moment, enjoying it before regaining her sense, pushing him away, raising her voice, “Did you took me for a fool?!”

“Lyanna-"

“Do not take me as a weak broad mare that you can claim with your royal worm!” she screamed, pushing away when he tried to touch her. “Go find your whores elsewhere and leave me alone!” With those last words. Lyanna was mad at him, and she didn't know what wasn't happening to her right now. This sudden feeling towards a man she never felt before. But to not feel it, to not get hurt, she needs to stay away from him.

* * *

_“And the dragons came. Not three, as Prince Garin had faced at Volon Therys, but three hundred or more, if the tales that have come down to us can be believed. Against their fires, the Rhoynar could not stand. Tens of thousands burned whilst others rushed into the river, hoping that the embrace of Mother Rhoyne would offer them protection against dragonflame only to drown in their mother’s embrace,”_ Elia finished, saying the last part with a certain sadness, but before she could continue, she hears the Wild wolf say, “May I ask you one question, Princess?” And she looked up from the book, feeling his grey steel eyes penetrate hers as if he was trying to look deep in her heart. “Why are you really keeping me company as I’m recovering? I’m sure there are plenty of things better to do in her than stay next to the bed of a fool northern.”

“Are you tired of my presence, my lord?” she asked, jokingly, thought in truth she was very serious and worried. She didn’t want for him to send her away.

“No, I’m not. But we both know the true reason why you are at Harrhenal, attending this tourney,” he said, gone were the old joking ways of speaking. Now there was only seriousness and coldness.

Elia, sighed, looking down, and quietly replied, “Yes. The reason why I’m here is because I need to seduce the Prince so that he marries me.”

“Then why aren’t you doing that? You Dornish are famous for being very good at that."

She was taken back by his words and even felt offended so much that she replied with an angry, raised voice, "What is that supposed to mean?"

“You know very well,” he said, clammily with furrowed eyes, clearly trying to keep at bay the wild wolf that was inside him.

Elia instead gives him a defying look, without replying, and crossing her arms in front of her chest as she leaned against the back seat, but even that seems to not make the wolf take a step forward.

“That look doesn't work with me, princess. But to answer your question, words travel fast and these walls, singing about of the Dornish princess who is seducing the dragon prince in the hallways of the cursed castle,” he said, almost like he was jealous about. She wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy of the wild wolf but returning her attention to the man she replied, “They also sing about how a wild is wondering around these lands claiming the virtue of the maidens,” and trying to be as serious as possible, as the northern wolf tried to do the same. But a few seconds later, he burst into laughs, and Elia, despite trying her best to keep a serious expression and being angry with him for what he said and implied, she burst into laughs too.

Glancing outside, she remembered that she needs to get ready for the tourney, so getting up and clearing her throat, Elia said, “I think that has come the moment for me to take my leave. But she feels him grab her hand and she glanced at the contact for a moment, before looking him in the grey steel eyes. Swallowing, Elia said, “lord Brandon...The tourney...” but she couldn’t finish as he dragged her down, making her yelp. Elia braced herself on either side of his head, to not fall on him, and with his face, a few inches from hers, her heart racing and her breath increasing. Her eyes moving between his lips and his eyes calling to all her strength to make her desist from kissing her because she knew that she won’t be able to stop if they start.

“I need to go,” Elia whispered, feeling him place his hand on the back of her head. She fought against it for a moment, but in the end, she gives it up, bending down and giving the start to a heated kiss. She could hear him groan as he was returning the kiss but didn’t care. The wolf wanted to dance under the sun? Let him endure the pain. With one hand resting on his jaw, Elia moved the other one down south towards where she could feel his hard cock. However, right before she could grab it, they got interrupted by a clearing troth, making them break apart and her eyes widened at seeing who it was.

* * *

They were laying under the heart tree of the Godswood, near the small stream that was there. Ashara was resting her head on his chest, twisting the strings of his tunic with her fingers. He loved these moments, so intimate and peaceful, holding a woman in his arms. The first woman that wasn't his sister and that they weren't children.

“Don't you find them a bit gruesome, Ned?” she asked, and he opened his eyes, being greeted by the terrible visage full of hatred, with a twisted mouth and flaring eyes of the Weirwood tree.

Glancing down at her, Ned released a sigh and smiling, said, “When I was a child, I was scared of them too, but my father always told me that it’s the way how the Old Gods are looking at us. Sometimes, when I was in the Vale, I missed them. I was missing the moments of the peacefulness that I felt under the heart tree when I was in Winterfell. But of course, there were other things to distract me there.”

“Like women and feast and hunts and tourneys?” she purred teasingly, running her hands up and down his chest, that despite covered by the clothes, he could still feel her soft skin on his.

“I never was good with women hunting or tourneys. And I wasn’t a fan of feast,” Ned replied, chuckling, before adding with sadness, “It was Robert who was good. He lived for that.”

“How do you feel about what happened?”

“I don't know,” he replied, sighing, “I knew Robert since I was eight. He was like a brother to me. But-" he stopped, turning to look at the stream to gather his thoughts and be more clear on them.

“Ned?”

“When Lyanna came to visit the Vale with my father two years ago, Robert fell for her immediately, praising her beauty. At that moment, it came to me, that if Robert and Lyanna got married, we would have been truly brothers before the eyes of the gods. So, I brought the proposal to my father once I got back to Winterfell. But now I see what a fool I was in thinking that Robert Baratheon was a good man for my sister,” replied Ned, adding the last part with more angriness and lifting up from the ground. “What kind of brother does that?!”

“Don't blame yourself for the actions of such a man,” Ashara said, and Ned felt her place the head on his shoulder, before pulling him back down. “Let’s forget about him now and think about us,” she added, climbing on him and bending down to kiss him, he knew what she wanted as she traveled her hands down towards his breeches, but he wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Pulling her hands away from there, Ned said, “Not yet.”

She rose a few inches up, looking him in the eyes for a moment, before nodding and bending down to kiss him again, as he placed his hand on her ribcage.

* * *

The Widow's Tower. This is how the place where he was residing during the days of this tourney got called. And it was the tower facing Kingspyre Tower, where Haren the Black and his heirs got burned by the Black Terror. Gods, what a fascination it must have been this mighty castle burned by the fire of House Targaryen.

That is what he will do once that everything will be ready. Once he will divide his enemies and corned them. Once they feel so safe that they won’t even know from where it comes. And now he was overlooking the map of Westeros, marking the house that will be on his side when fire will be light in Westeros. Only of two Kingdoms, he was sure of. The Reach and the Crownlands. But he wasn’t a fool. He knows the stupid Tyrell will only help him if it benefits them, and when he will move war to the Hightowers they will jump on the moment to destroy some of their biggest and strongest rivals.

_"The time to act is imminent. The eagle and the wolf are weaving their webs for the rebellion. The Sun and the Troute are drawn by power,"_ his only friend that can be trusted said. _"Remember, you must tie Ice and Fire in one to bring back the ancient glory of House Targaryen."_

"She will never agree if the Old Wolf is dead," the king replied, looking at the northern kingdom.

_"She will once they are exposed. They betrayed the Old Gods. I am their will and their messenger,”_ his friend replied. _“The She-wolf had already fallen for the Dragon, but she only isn't aware of the destiny that awaits you.”_

In that moment he heard voices outside and a knock at the door. When it was opened by Ser Gerold, Aerys saw his wife enter, with a serious expression, wearing a dress black and red embroidered with gold and the three headed dragon on her belly. Over it, she was wearing a light grey cloak, gifted her by Lord Stark as a symbol of his loyalty to the crown. That fool. He thinks that with false gifts and little words are enough to show loyalty.

“What is it?”

“It’s time to go to the tourney. Have you forgotten that today is the last day of the tourney?” she said, stopping a few steps away from him, with her fingers resting on the table, but Aerys, taking the goblet of wine in hand, moved towards the great opening of the tower that was serving as a window, and taking a sip as he leaned against the wall, mumbled, “I was a fool.”

“A fool? Regarding what, your grace?”

“Her,” he said, not wanting to pronounce her name, and glancing at his wife, who in the meantime field herself a goblet of wine too. He observed her for a moment not knowing what to say. She was indeed a very beautiful woman his sister. A sight to behold by every man who lies eyes on her, and he knew he behaved badly with her, blaming her for something that wasn't her fault, but now was too late to dwell over the past, and especially say the words.

“Your grace?” came her voice, snapping him out from his thoughts.

“Joanna Lannister. She was a bitch, worse than her husband, whose true interest was the crown and the power,” he replied, looking away, as the revelations were flowing through his mind as the first time. He was truly grateful to his old friend for opening his eyes to the lies that clouds these Kingdoms who were under the heels of the Citadel. Perhaps it was the only good thing regarding that damned imprisonment at Duskendale.

“There is no reason to dwell on the past, brother. What is done is done. She is dead now,” his wife replied, approaching the window too. Looking outside, she said, “If we look behind, we are lost, brother.”

“Yes. Indeed, we are. But we need to look behind to not make the same mistakes that led to our downfall,” he replied, glancing at her and taking another sip. “One of the nights that I sleep in her I dreamed of a girl as fair as the moon, with purple eyes, and silver-golden hairs. She had the royal bearing of a true queen. And beside her, a tall boy with the dark curls and the mark of a wolf and a dragon was standing.”

“A witch-"

“Don't,” he warned her not to start with that, drinking all the content of the goblet, before moving away. A witch made them like this. Miserable. He wanted to do nothing with the witches.

* * *

Rhaegar was in his tent, getting ready for the last day of the tourney that will end with the joust followed by a feast for the Queen of Love and Beauty, as his squire Myles Mooton was helping him with the armour.

His body may have been here, but his mind was elsewhere. His mind was still stopped at a few hours before, in the hallway with the She-wolf of Winterfell. He was so confused by her behavior right now. One moment she was enjoying the kiss, moaning almost loudly, and the next moment she burst into anger pushing him and screaming at him as if he has done something wrong or disrespected her.

“My lady,” he hears Myles say, and looking towards the entrance, Rhaegar saw Cersei Lannister standing there, with hands intertwined, and a smile on her face. Her long golden locks were left freely like a cascade while some straights were tied behind, braided in a small braid.

While on her, she was wearing a silk red dress, embroidered with golden lines. On her belly instead, there was proudly embroidered the golden lion of House Lannister.

“Lady Cersei,” greeted her Rhaegar, with a bow.

“Prince Rhaegar,” she made a reverence, smiling, before looking back at him with emerald eyes full of lust he already knew how she was imagining him right now, he wasn’t a fool. And she for sure would be the perfect Queen for the Seven Kingdoms. But not for him. No, his perfect queen is wild as the wolf in the woods, and with a spirit that goes beyond the normal bearing, caring for those who she loves the most and ready to protect them from the danger with her bare claws and especially defend those who were weak, unlike the Lannister girl, who cared only for one thing. Swallowing, he asked, “How may I help you, my lady?”

“Can we have some privacy, squire,” she said, looking at Mooton, who turned at him, and Rhaegar, nodding, said, “Fetch me the horse.”

“Yes, my prince,” Myles replied, bowing and leaving the tent.

Crossing his arms, Rhaegar turned his attention to the Lannister girl, waiting to hear what she wanted, who in response, started to round him, with the hand on his armour.

“A few moments ago, my father, Lord Tywin came to me with great news,” she started and Rhaegar rolled his eyes at that, wanting to say something rude to make her go, but bits his tongue, to desist. “He informed me that the king agreed to our union and that the wedding will occur in a moon from now, in the capital in the Sept of Baelor, under the eyes of the Gods and of the whole Seven Kingdoms.”

Rhaegar didn't reply, since there was nothing he could say. He knew that this moment was going to come since the moment he realized what the crown Prince’s duty are.

“I can't wait for that moment to come,” she eagerly said, grabbing the sides of his armour, placing her head on the hard steel, leaving him without words. “I want you to wear this,” my prince, she said, showing him a piece of cloth like the one she was wearing. Rising on the tiptoes, with lips a few inches from his, she added whispering, “I kept it warm for you. It will bring you great fortune during the tourney and will show everyone that we belong together.”

“My lady-" she placed a finger on his lips to stop him, before leaving the tent, and Rhaegar, sighing, pulled on the mail coif, and took the dragon helmet, getting out, where Myles and Oswell were waiting for him.

“By all Gods, Oswell. The women are such beautiful creatures, but at the same time, so complicated,” Rhaegar replied, climbing on the horse, and receiving a chuckle from the Bat.

* * *

Lyanna was fiddling with the sleeves of her skirt, as they were waiting for the first challengers to enter the field. Beside her, the lord of Winterfell, her father was sitting with a serious expression, shaking his leg impatiently. He was still angry because of what happened between Brandon and the Princess of Dorne in the chambers, and he had scolded him pretty badly. On one hand, she feels happy for Brandon’s fate since he did the same to her when he saw her with Prince Rhaegar, but on the other hand, she feels sorry for the Princess who seemed still embarrassed and avoiding to look at them.

Her little brother Ben, on the other hand, was waiting with impatience too, but not because of the same see the best knights clash in this last day, knowing that tomorrow, they will all leave for the North; while Ned seems to had his mind in a whole different place since the only thing he was looking at was the Dornish lady, sister of the Sword of the Morning and lady-in-waiting of the Princess of Dorne, Lady Ashara Dayne. She has never seen him like this before.

When the trumpets were blown, she first riders entering the field. One, bearing the emblems of the red Rhoynar Sun pierced by the Martell’s golden spear. Prince Oberyn Martell, The Red Viper as he was known, a man with a whoremonger reputation and that by now fucked half Westeros already. At least according to the tales, she heard from the maidens and servants.

The other one instead, had an indigo armour chased with silver, and wearing a helmet that was decorated with the wings of an eagle. If the mind didn't betray her, these were the colors of House Mallister of Seaguard.

The first clash resulted in a draw, shattering the lances in hundreds of pieces and the riders took their respective position as their squires brought other lances. The trumpets blew again and the knights, with the horse rearing up, charged at each other, at great speed. This time she saw the Red Viper lower his lance straight in the last moment, breaking the lance on the knight of Seaguard’s helm, knocking him down from the horse. 

She looked around as the people were in silence, for sure not expecting for the knight of Seaguard, till the Dornish ones were to break it, cheering loudly for their Prince. She glanced at the Princess of Dorne, Elia Martell, seeing her widely smile, but when she returned her attention to the field that in the meantime got cleared, Lyanna saw him enter the field in his armour black as night and decorated with rubies that were shining at the sunlight. Even if the visor of his helmet was lowered, with the gold, red, and orange silken waved by the wind in the air, Lyanna could see his indigo eyes look straight at her, pears her soul, making her feel a bit uneasy.

His opponent on the other hand was bearing the emblem of the sky-blue falcon soaring against a white moon, on a sky-blue field. Elbert Arryn he must be. She wondered if, that now Robert is sentenced to death, her father was going to marry her off to the heir of the Eyrie. She didn't know how she would feel about that. Elbert Arryn was indeed a handsome man as she could remember, with short blonde hairs, blue eyes and an aquiline nose that wasn't that much bad, but still, he wasn't like the man of her dreams. Tall and strong with long curly silver-blonde hairs with indigo eyes.

“It seems it's official,” she hears Dacey say, and turning to the northern girl, Lyanna saw her nod towards the prince, and once she looked better, Lyanna finally noticed what was tied at his arm. It was a red and gold silk. House Lannister. Glancing at the Lannister side, Lyanna saw Lord Tywin's daughter smirking at her with a satisfied look. She curses under her breath “Damn golden whore,” turning away when she felt tugging at her skirt and not expecting to see the knight of House Arryn riding towards her.

Bowing, the knight said, smiling, “Lady Lyanna. Would you do me the honour in allow to wear your honours?”

Rhaegar was looking through the visor at his opponent who was addressing the She-wolf of Winterfell not liking it. The people were in silence, waiting to see what the lady of the North that danced with the prince will do, and the same was Rhaegar, with the heart in his throat, and with a difficult breathing.

A few moments later, he saw her get up and tie a grey string around his left arm. Rhaegar couldn't believe that she did such a thing. Allowing another knight to wear her colors in the tourney and especially since he was riding against him. A sudden rage light inside him and his dragon blood started to boil. He will make pay the damn Arryn for this bold step.

When the trumpets sounded, Rhaegar urged his black war stallion forward with pointed lances and fury in the eyes. Moments later, he felt the enemy's lance strike him right in the breastplate, making him almost lose his stead.

Lyanna was squeezing her fist, with the heart racing like a thousand galloping horses in open fields. Her chest was moving fast because of the quick breathing and the anxiety growing, as the Dragon Prince was returning to his position, ready for the second round, taking the lance from his squire, charging at his opponent immediately. This time, when Rhaegar’s lance made contact with Elbert’s breastplate, the prince managed to unhorse his opponent, emerging victorious and advancing in the tilt.

He rode up to the royal box, rising his broken lance to those who were there and to the Lannister girl, before riding away after giving Lyanna a look.

Now it was the time for the third tilt of the morning, between the sword of the morning, Ser Arthur Dayne who is riding against the Lord of Runestone, as she could recognize because of the black iron studs on a bronze field, bordered with runes. From what her brother Ned told her about this House, the Royce are descendants from the First Men, and their bear this bloodline with proudness.

The squire brought the lances to their respective knights, as the horses were waiting impatiently for the signal of the banner and the trumpets to sound, and when the moment came, the stallion pranced on his rear, showing all his magnificence of a warhorse with the black mane floating in the air, before changing at his opponent who already took great speed. The clash was like a lightning which ended in a hearthbeat, and despite the breaking of the lances straight on the chest of the knights, but they stayed steady on the horses.

Lyanna glanced at the woman that was sitting next to her seeing with how much passion she was following this fight, and she wanted to laugh at that. It seems that the fearless she-bear has been conquered by a star in a shining armour. Lyanna wanted to laugh at the woman, trying to be all tough, but in the end, she melted for a knight.

Returning her attention back to the field, Lyanna saw the two knights clash again, resulting in a draw. Again. As they took, they position again, and the result was the same.

The challenge went on for four more draws until it was the tiredness the one to make them loose, or rather, make the Sword of the Morning win and unhorse the old man, rising his broken lance in victory. Lyanna glanced at Dacey seeing her display a huge smile, and she was happy, for a moment, before remembering that nothing may happen between them. Ser Arthur was a Kingsguard with oaths, and Dacey, well Dacey was Dacey.

It was time for the last tilt before midday and before everyone since on king’s command, the semi-finals and finals tilts will be held in the afternoon and once dusk came.

Ser Barristan Selmy, member of the Kingsguard he was, and his opponent the Lord of Griffin's Roost, Jon Connington, who was glaring at her? Why was he glaring at her since she didn’t even know him? Lyanna was so confused by the knight who lowered his helmet and taking the lance charged at the old knight.

But for Ser Barristan, the knight of the Griffin wasn’t a thought opponent to defeat, and the Kingsguard unhorsed the man at the first tilt, under the cheers of the people.

With this last tilt before the midday, Lyanna glanced at the Royal box, seeing the king leave the tourney, followed by the Kingsguard and the queen.

* * *

**_Hours later..._ **

****

Rhaegar was still in his tent, despite being called already twice by his squire that the trumpets had sounded, and it was time for him to join the field, but he was not feeling very well. His skull was ringing from because of the thirteen lances that Arthur broke on him before being unhorsed by him and nausea was swimming up his throat. "Rhaegar knew what would make him feel better. A kiss from the girl he fell in love with. But it wasn't possible. The girl hated him for a reason that was still unclear to him and even allowed the young Arryn to wear her favors. Rhaegar knew that he should not feel this way about that gesture considering that he himself wore the colors of another woman, but he feels somehow betrayed. Betrayed? Really?" he thought to himself. "It's not like she is my betrothed or wife. She is allowed to do what she wants and meet who she wants."

"Prince Rhaegar? The crowd awaits you," Myles said.

Rhaegar, releasing a sigh, and after taking a sip of water, left the tent, climbing on the horse, and putting on his dragon helmet, he rode away.

Dusk was coming as they were waiting for the final tilt between those great riders. The dragon prince Rhaegar Targaryen against one the greatest swordsman of the Seven Kingdoms. Ser Barristan Selmy.

The previews two were the best Ned has witnessed, especially the one between the Prince and the Sword of the Morning. A clash between titans he would say. But of course, right now, Ned was cheering for the prince in this final tilt not wanting for the Kingsguard to win this tourney and crown his beloved Ashara the Queen of love and beauty. Damn it! He should have joined the joust too.

The people started cheering when the two opponents joined the field, and Ned glanced at his sister for a moment seeing her wariness and anxiety displayed on her face. Poor girl. He felt sorry for her knowing that even if the prince emerges victorious, he is going to crown the queen of love and beauty Lady Cersei. 

He glanced at the girl for a moment, seeing her smirk and look lustfully at the young prince. She was indeed a very beautiful woman that may lead every man to madness with her look. Emerald eyes as he could see, and long golden locks, that were left freely, but with some strands on top that were making a small braid. A fitting wife for the Dragon Prince.

The trumpets sounded as the opponents took their position and the squires brought their lances. When the flag was waved the two knights charged at each other, as dust was flying up from the ground. Hundreds of heartbeats happened before the two knights collided, resulting in a first draw, and they lost their lances at the impact.

The crowd started to cheer and clap for the knights, with more than half of them cheering for the prince of course. The two knights took their positions again, and as the squires brought another lance for them, before the flag waved and the opponents charged at each other in a speed of dust, colliding with each other, and breaking their lance, but kept being steady on the horse. This time the crowd gasped with an unpleasant expression.

Ned glanced at Ashara for a moment, to see how she was reacting, not expecting to find her doing that. She was waving her kisses and wandering her hand up and down the opening of her dress, making his cock stir at the filthy thought that they were forming. Daman, he hated her in these teasingly moments. She was killing him right now. Slowly killing, and a few moments later, she nodded her head to leave.

He bits his lower lips for a moment, before clearing his throat, and turning to his father, he mumbled, “I need to leave for a few moments, Father,” without even waiting for the reply.

* * *

**_Moments later…_ **

****

She lost count of how many times the lances broke on the respective knights before her Prince finally managed to unhorse his opponent with a very powerful blow to the chest, and the crowd burst in a roaring cheer.

_“Dragon Prince! Dragon Prince! Prince Rhaegar! Prince Rhaegar!”_ And she was looking at him with love and adoration. Her Prince. Her beautiful silver-haired Prince.

Stopping the horse in front of the royal box, the Dragon Prince waited for the prize to be given him, and she couldn’t wait for him to crown her Queen of Love and beauty. She glanced at her father, smiling widely, intertwining her hand, and biting them.

The King rose up and loudly said, “Here is your champion, people of the Seven Kingdoms. If it pleases you, Lord Whent hand the champion the crown of Winter Roses."

“Gladly,” the old Lord replied, taking the crown, the lord, climbed down the stairs and handed it to the young prince.

Rhaegar glanced at her for a moment, smiling, as she was waiting impatiently for him to ride towards her. But as soon as he turned the horse, she couldn’t believe her eyes where he was riding.

* * *

**_\- Interlude -_ **

The envoys from Oldtown had long since left the Rock, and Jaime ended the day practicing with his sword in the courtyard until almost late at night. He was also somewhat disappointed that Tywin did not take him to the tourney of Harrhenal, not knowing the true reason behind it. But Genna does. She knew more things than anyone in her and because of her loyalty, her brother left her here to run the Castle but at the same time keep the boys in line.

Genna now was sitting in the bath room where there was the great golden tube built by her grandfather, and the boy was sitting in the bath, enjoying the hot water that was relaxing his muscles for sure, but she knew without a good massage to undo the knots that build.

Taking a sip, she shifted in her seat, squeezing her thigh to prevent her growing arousal because of the naughty thoughts she was imagining right now. Young, strong arms wrapping around her, and a hard-young cock piercing her from behind. By the Gods, her husband wasn’t good enough at that, and she wondered if this boy would be better. If someone saw them like that, they would call them mad. And would call out incest. But she wouldn’t. Not a really closed one. Or would it still be?

Tywin was a fool to believe her regarding the children. Or maybe he knows the truth but refuses to admit it.

“I need to thank you, aunt Genna. Without you, I would have never been able to deal with the envoys,” came the boy's voice, pulling her out from the filthy thoughts.

Taking a sip, and wallowing, she replied, smirking, “It was a pleasure, my dear.” Getting up, and fixing her dress, Genna started to move towards the tub, stumbling sometimes on her way because of the too much wine, and sitting on the edge right behind the boy, who didn't notice her for a moment. “You know. Your father will be proud of you. The way you handled the situation not letting yourself be intimidated by him.”

“Only because you were there, aunt,” he replied, smiling, glancing up for a moment, before moving away. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just sitting on the edge and enjoying the moment, nephew,” she replied, smirking, untying her golden locks, and letting them freely, shaking her head. “Come. Don’t be afraid.”

Jaime came back, leaning his naked back against the wall of the thumb, closing his eyes, as Genna took some bath oil from the free cities, stroking her hands for a moment before placing them on the boy’s shoulder.

“Aunt-“

“Shhh… relax, and let me take care of you,” she replied, not letting him get up. “You have tired yourself today, my dear. Took many blows, and now your muscles are sore. If you don’t treat them right now, you may run into unpleasant situations.”

Jaime didn’t reply, enjoying the moment, as she was stroking him, softly. Despite the young age, she could see the glimpse of the small muscles of the warriors like her brothers. Yet it was the dragon blood that was flowing in his vein and not the one of the lions of the Rock.

“How do you feel, my dear?” she asked, moving her attention on his chest, and slowly downwards but not enough to make him uncomfortable.

“Wonderful,” the boy purred in a pleasant way, and Genna smirked, seeing his cock starting to harden. She wondered what Cersei would say if she rode her twin.

Suddenly they got interrupted by a knock at the door, and she immediately pulled away, getting up. “Yes.”

The Maester entered inside saying, “A scroll from Lord Tywin, my lady.” And Genna immediately started to read it quickly.

“What does it say, aunt Genna?”

“Bad news, Jaime,” was the only thing she said, leaving the room, despite Jaime calling after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.westeros.org/News/Entry/World_of_Ice_and_Fire_Excerpt_The_Rhoynar
> 
> From here is the excerpt that Elia read.


	9. Chapter 9

The crowd fell in silence the moment the young prince halted his horse in front of the northern lady, and stretching the arm that was holding the lance, placed the crown on the girl's lap, who was stunned, surprised, and at the same time, Rhaella could see a certain hidden anger.

Everyone was waiting for the girl's reaction to this, and she continued to stall, while the young ladies of marriageable age looked at her with envy, contempt, and hatred.

Returning her gaze to the girl, Rhaella saw her take the crown firmly and place it on her head, before flaunting a false pride. It seemed she was not fond of so much attention. Poor girl, if she will become one day queen, she needs to get used to it.

Her son, on the other hand, displayed a big smile on his face, as the crowd was cheering, and clapping for the newly crowned Queen of Love and Beauty, before he approached the royal box, and after a bow and a smile towards her, he rode away.

"Will they marry now?" asked Viserys, eagerly.

"No," she chuckled, adjusting his tunic, and placing locks behind his ears.

"But she is his queen now."

"Queen of love and beauty, Viserys, nothing more," Aerys said with annoyance, getting up, and leaving the stage, with some of the Kingsguard members following.

* * *

He released a sigh of relief, throwing the broken lance to the ground, and climbing down from his steed, heading straight for his tent, followed by his squire, who immediately started to remove his heavy armour.

Once he was free of it, Rhaegar stretched his sour muscle a bit, before taking a sip of water to extinguish the fire, he was feeling, but as soon as he turned, he was meet by a slap and the furious expression of the She-wolf.

“HOW DARE YOU INSULT ME IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!”

“What? How-" but she throws at him the crown.

“Take this shit back and don't ever try to insult me with your games,” she said, turning on her heels and ready to leave but Rhaegar grabbed her wrist and stopping the girl.

"What in the seven hells got into you?”

"What got in me? What got into you?” She shouted, pulling her hand away, and crossed her arms glaring at him. “You take the ladies to your bed and then insult me in front of everyone.”

“What in the seven hells are you talking about? I bedded no one,” he replied, not believing his ears, but she only spoke her head in denial, not wanting to listen.

“You already bedded the princess of Dorne, you bedded the Lannister girl. You-" He sealed his lips with hers not wanting to listen to those nonsenses, squeezing her to his chest. It was clear that she wasn't against it, since she was returning the kiss, but her arms didn't touch him, rather they were trapped between his chest and hers.

Breaking the kiss, and resting his forehead on hers, Rhaegar whispered, “I bedded no one, Lyanna. And whoever claims so, is a liar.” Despite knowing perfectly who was the one to spread these lies, and she will suffer his wrath when he will see her.

But Lyanna pushed him away, still raging, and picking the crown of winter roses from the ground, said, pointing it at him, “Don't ever try to insult me.”

“Wait,” he said, stopping her again. “Do you know why I did?” but she refused to look at him, and Rhaegar looking at his squire, nodded to leave. Once they were alone, he approached the girl, and lifting up her chin and turning her so that she was looking at him, he said, “I did because my feelings for you are true. What I told you was all true Lyanna. And if you want for me to relinquish my titles and right to the throne, I will do it in a heartbeat.”

She swallowed, looking at him, and Rhaegar could see tears in her eyes, and releasing a choking sob, Lyanna said, “I need to go.”

And she runs away, as Rhaegar sighed, backing towards the table, and leaning against it. What a mess he made for her and for herself. Gods, why did you make me fall in love with such a difficult woman.

* * *

After the tourney, she decided to go and see Brandon Stark, with the hope that Lord Stark will no longer be around to cough them. She was still embarrassed after what happened yesterday, despite her not being some shy maiden. Fortunately, at the door there were no Stark guards as it was in the previous days since the accident occurred.

Knocking at the door, she received no answer from the other side. And so, taking a breath, she opened the door a bit, peeking behind it, and seeing him standing at the window with his back turned to the door.

She didn't know if he heard her, but entering inside, and closing the door behind, she said, “I see that you are feeling better.” And he immediately turned at her, smiling. “Am I disturbing you, Lord Brandon?"

“No. Not at all. I just got too bored to stay in bed,” she replies, approaching her, limping, with a smug on his face. She backed away, but hitting the door behind, till he trapped her there. Leaning, with lips only a few inches away, Brandon Stark said, “But now that you are here....” he started to slide his fingers down her face, and neck, till he reached her upper chest.

The dress she was wearing had a very great opening, and she felt him start to slide his fingers down between her breasts. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and Elia heard him whisper, “Now we can finish what we have started.”

As he was kissing her chin, her neck, Elia could feel his hands move to her straps, ready to make the dress fall. This wasn't the reason why she came here, and it would be so easy to stop him from continuing the act. But damn she won't do it because the desire was too much. And with her arms down, Brandon Stark pulled the straps down and making her dress slide down her slender body.

He stopped for a moment, pulling away. And resting his hand on her shoulders. They both were breathing fast because of the heat of the moment. He moved his eyes up and down her body, and she felt a bit uneasy under his stare, not knowing what he was thinking about her right now. She knew she was a beautiful woman, but her flat chest made her a bit unsure with the men, knowing that they desire a much bigger bosom to squeeze and grope.

“You are beautiful,” he said, leaning and starting to kiss her passionately. She was returning the kiss with the same passion and heat, but by the Seven he was so ravenous.

When he, all of a sudden, brought his hand on her sex, Elia gasped with widened eyes in surprise at the contact, but when he started to play with her pussy like a melody on a harp, she closed her eyes moaning in his mouth and running her hands through his brown curls.

The wild wolf, devouring her, started to move downwards, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down her neck and her chest. At feeling him kiss her breasts, squeeze them, and bite her hard nipples, Elia bites her lower lips to prevent the coming out of the moans, while trying to stay steady. But when his mouth fell on her pussy, it was when her end has come. Her body was only standing up because of him pinning her to the door, as the wolf keeps feasting on her. She never felt like this before. No one truly devoured her like this before.

They went like that for a few moments, that to her felt like ages, till she could no longer resist to his thrusting fingers and licking tongue, and so she came with a loud cry of pleasure, prying to the Seven that no one heard her.

The wolf started to get up, groaning in pain on the way that she didn’t even hear before because of the heat of the moment, but never losing the passion, and groping her butt, he started to kiss her ferociously, and she could taste herself.

“By the Old Gods....It has been long.... since I tasted a woman's nectar...”

She chuckled, bringing down her hands, and starting to untie his breeches, to free the cock that was hard as a rock. She didn't pull down his breeches, but enough to free his member. To her surprise, he was well endowed. Long and thick. So big that she didn't know if it will fit inside her pussy or in her mouth.

“Yes, I know. I’m well endowed,” he, laughing, proudly said, breaking the kiss as she rolled her eyes at his arrogance. But, as she was getting ready to bend down and suck that wonderful cock, he stopped her, saying, “To the bed.”

“But your wounds?”

“Fuck the wounds,” he said, locking the door and starting to drag her with him backwards, as she was stroking his member. He fell on the bed, releasing a loud cry in pain, as she fell on him too, but never losing the focus of what they were doing.

She had her pussy settled on his member. And she knew it would take only one move to get him in, but she wanted to take him in her mouth firstly. To feel that size fill her mouth till deep in her throat.

However, her plans got destroyed, when the Wild Wolf, grabbing her butt, lifted it easily up at bit, and his member, hard and straight, stirred till his head got trapped at her entrance. She already could feel her body react at the sensation of the head resting on her lips and the excitement that was building because of what was coming next.

“It will hurt at the beginning.”

“I lost my maidenhood a long time ago,” she replied, sinking down on him with one move and releasing a loud cry of pain. It was as if his cock was ripping her apart from inside. Her pussy was burning and her walls squeezing around his cock. “By the Seven. You are so big.”

“Now you know why I’m called the wild wolf,” he replied, smirking, groping her ass, and starting to thrust up because she didn't have the strength to move her hips.

He wasn't gentle, but the roughness of his wild thrust that increased in time feels so good. Though she could feel that he wasn't completely inside her.

They went like that for a very long time, till he pulled out and pushing her off him. She could barely hold herself up as her pussy was burning when she suddenly felt him grab her hips and with one powerful thrust get back inside her again and starting to roughly fuck her hard and fast from behind.

Elia deepened her face in his pillow to silence the cries of pleasure, as the wild wolf was plunging into her like a madman. Grabbing her hair, Brandon lifted her body up, starting to kiss and bite her neck. She, on the other hand, was resting one of her hands on his butt, while with the other, started to squeeze her breasts and pinch her hard nipples.

Heartbeats later, her walls clenched around him, and she came on his cock, while Brandon keeps thrusting in her as she was sitting in his lap now, because of the small strength she had. She could feel her juice drip down her thighs, as he keeps pumping into her.

However, at hearing him say, “I’m about to come...” Elia, gathering all the strength she had, rose up, and turning around immediately, took him in her mouth, starting to suck and stroke him fast as if he was some kind of God of love that she was pleasuring, while Brandon was leaning backwards on his arms. 

It didn't pass long when he, pressing her head down, released a long load of seed inside her mouth. She tried to swallow as much as possible, but it was too difficult and a lot of it came down his cock, mixed with her saliva. She finished him off completely, before pulling out, and cleaning her mouth, she fell on her back, sour, panting, and with closed eyes.

By the Seven. What a moment this has been. The best of her life and damn the consequences of that may come.

She could feel him start to crawl up her body, his beard tickling her skin, stopping on her flat belly. Playing with his curls, Elia said, “I hope that this won't make you think we have a future together.”

“Of course, I don't. This is just sex like with many before you. I’m promised to Lysa Tully anyway. And you will marry some southron lord.”

Hearing that, she felt a bitterness inside her, not really know how to deal with the revelation, but sighing, she said, “I need to go back to my room and get ready for the feast.”

“Another ride,” he said, crawling up, and settling between the thighs, feeling his cock come back to life again.

“I need-“ but she couldn’t finish, as he started to slide inside her, slowly this time, and she let herself go for another ride. After all, what is the rush to attend a feast for some queen that wasn't her?

Ooo

With the mind full of thoughts, he was heading to the dungeons where Robert was held, to speak with the man that no long ago was like a brother to him.

When he reached his destination, Ned saw Jon Darry, a member of the Kingsguard standing there with four Dragonkeepers, guarding the cell, and at seeing him approach, the knight greeted him, “Lord Eddard. What brings you here?”

“I want to speak with Robert.”

“No one can see the prisoner, my lord. I thought you knew it,” blocking his way, as the Dragonkeepers, closed their spears contact.

“Why? Are you afraid I'll set him free?”

“King's orders, Lord Eddard.”

“I don't need much, only a few moments,” Ned said, and the Kingsguard, hesitantly nodded, unlocking the door, and giving him one of the torches, before Ned entered in. The cell was dark, cold, and gloomy, while Robert was sitting on the ground, with only a shirt and his breaches. The hairs a mess, and the face beaten. He was trembling because of the coldness, because of the starvation, and of course because of the beating.

“Traitor!” he growled with barely a whisper, trying to get up, but couldn’t.

“Traitor you say. Why I’m a traitor?”

“You choose dragonseed over me. You choose that bloody family over your brother!” tried his friend to roar, but was barely a hiss.

“And you tried to rape my sister!” he shouted back, trying to keep his anger at bay and restrain himself from throwing a punch in that whoring face of the stag who was his best friend.

“I never did such thing. It was all in her damn head, and-“ a punch on his face was enough to shout Robert’s mouth, and he heard the Kingsguard ask, “Is everything all right in there, Lord Eddard?”

“Yes,” he replied, leaning against the wall. Sighing, and crossing his arms, he said, "You know I have to thank you. If you weren't so foolish as to assault my sister, you would have still managed to have her. We would have been unaware of your behavior, and she would have been married to you. A monster without honour who thinks only of whoring, drinking, and fighting."

"Who will she marry now?" asked Robert.

"I don't know. The most favored candidate is Elbert Arryn, to whom she herself granted her favours when she faced the Prince, but something rather interesting happened today," he replied, moving away from the wall, and approaching Robert. "Prince Rhaegar has crowned Lyanna queen of love and beauty."

"You side with that damned-"

"No. I didn't side with him, but at least he did not try to rape her, and from what I saw during the last four years in war, he is more honourable than you."

"Be damned Eddard Stark!"

"Farewell, Robert. I considered you a brother once, but your actions have shown that you are an enemy," he said, leaving the cell, with the screams and curs of Robert behind, heading straight to the rooms that were assigned to him. He needs some wine, rest, and to clear his mind.

Once he was there, and getting in, after closing the door, he heard some noise come from the bed, and a woman moaningly say, “Ned…It’s that you.”

Approaching the bed, and opening its curtains, he was greeted by a naked Ashara Dayne, lying on the bed, hugging his pillow and one leg up.

“By the Old gods. What are you doing here naked?” he asked, quickly picking the sheets to cover her, and receiving a groan in frustration from her.

“Why are you like this?” she asked, as he moved away towards the table to fill himself a goblet of wine, and sitting on the chair. Taking a sip, he glanced toward the bed, seeing her get down, without the sheets, and sensually approach him naked. He turned to the other side, biting his fist and try to restrain himself from taking the woman right in this room.

“What is it, Ned?” she asked, placing the hand on his shoulder from behind him, and leaning whispered. “Don't you want me anymore? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Old Gods, of course I do," he replied, taking her hands, and bringing them to his lips, giving them a kiss. "I love you," _(kiss)_ "and I desire you."

"Then why don't you take me?" she asked, stuffing her hands into his tunic, and moving them downwards, purring in the meantime.

“Because we are not married,” he whispered, feeling his heart hammer in the chest and the breath, increase as she keeps running her hand on his chest under the tunic, and after whispering him, that there is a way for that, Ashara rounded his chair sitting in his lap. Her naked body against his clothed one. Her hot breath on his face. Her soft hands caressing his jaws, in comparison to his rough one, that was settled on her belly, begging to move lower and to settle on that part that was hiding the nectar of the gods.

“Eddard. We need to…. What the hell is happening in here?” he heard his father ask from the door, and immediately get up, While Ashara covered herself with her hands.

“Father-“

“Fix yourself and come to my room," he said rather angrily as he left.

“Fuck!” he muttered, as Ashara run to the bed to pick up her dress, in silence before leaving the room too, as Ned sighed, and fixing his tunic, left it to ready to face his father.

* * *

He needs to drink three cups of wine to make the anger pass and face his second son because of what happened. He still couldn’t understand what is happening with his children. It is as if this place has cursed them, making them all fuck with the first one that passed. Did they all become mad? Could it be Harren's curse that's making them act this way? His heir bedding a Dornish Princess, his second one a Dornish Lady, sister of the Sword of the Morning. He only hoped that his daughter didn't give away her maidenhood to the Prince, otherwise all will be doomed for his House.

“Father?” he heard his son from the door and nodded to enter in. And his son did it, with lowered gaze and hand intertwined in front of him. Eddard never was like Brandon, who was bolder and less honourable when it came to women. His action, surprising him with a naked woman sitting on his lap who wasn’t his wife, that was not something he would do.

“I’m disappointed in you, Eddard. Bedding a Lady with whom you aren’t even married. What were you thinking?”

“I swear on the Old Gods that nothing happened, father. Nothing besides the usually stolen kisses.”

“Don’t lie to me boy,” Rickard said, throwing him a look, and his son immediately looked down. “You can't change what I saw, Eddard. A naked woman sitting on your lap. Tell me you haven't dishonoured her, Eddard. Tell me she is still a virgin and that you have not taken her maidenhood."

"I have not. But even if I had done it, I would have married her without hesitation," his son answered proudly and with great seriousness, that he could not believe his ears. Dorne had nothing to offer the North but their sand. And he does not have enough resources to repay the wrong of dishonour for these two ladies should it come to that.

Before he could add anything, they got interrupted by a knock on the door. “Yes.” And Rickard saw Jon Arryn open it a bit.

“Am I disturbing you, Lord Stark?”

“No. Me and Ned just finished,” he said, as his son, left the room after Jon Arryn patted his shoulder.

“Hope everything is all right with Eddard,” the Lord of the Eyre said, and Rickard nodded, not wanting to go into that argument again.

“What did you want to talk about, Lord Arryn?” he asked, filling himself a goblet of wine and one to the Lord, before sitting on his chair and await for him to start as he took a sip.

* * *

The moment of the feast to celebrate the queen of love and beauty and for the champion of the tourney came and yet there was no sign of the daughter of the Warden of the North, neither of her son or his friend the Kingsguard Arthur Dayne.

The lords and ladies were in deep conversation, drinking and laughing, unaware of what was coming. Though she couldn't wait for it to happen. Since she was a child, Rhaella was always against violence, but they were threatening her family. Her children. She can't let this pass easily. They need to pay. Just like the Citadel and House Hightower, who plotted since the times of their coming to Westeros, according to her brother, and who killed her infant children or those who weren’t even born yet.

Thinking of her brother-husband, he glanced at Aerys, seeing him rest his head on three fingers moving only his eyes, watching the lords, or at least she thinks that is what he was doing. Though she remembers him saying that sometimes his so-called friend was speaking to him in these moments. She questioned him on this regard plenty of times, but he always dismissed the topic, saying it was not the time to reveal it yet.

Her attention was drawn away from Aerys, at hearing the door open and seeing her son enter, followed by the Sword of the Morning, and the lords, ladies, and knights, started to cheer for the champion of Harrhenal.

Rhaegar on the other hand had only a small smile, but behind it Rhaella knew that something was haunting him, and she will have to ask about it. Getting up, she wanted to go to her son, but her Aerys stopped her, grabbing the wrists, “Where are you going?”

“To great our son,” she replied, freeing herself, and seeing Aerys glare sat her with eyes full of rage as she moved away, following Viserys who run straight towards his older brother, who picked the little Prince up immediately.

“Rhaegar. "I thought it was customary for the champion of the tourney to accompany the queen of love and beauty to the feast."

Her son sighed, placing down Viserys, and as they start to walk, towards one of the tables, he said, “She is angry with me, mother. She threw the crown of flowers at me after the joust, because she thinks I chose her to humiliate her. "

He took a goblet of wine, which had just been filled by a copier, and drank it down in one gulp, while she waited for him to find the words to continue. Moving towards one of the windows of the Hall of hundred hearts, which was a more peaceful part of the room, he continued. "She thinks I slept with the ladies I talked to during this tourney, and that's why she believes I only used her."

And hearing that, Rhaella turned to those who were present, scanning the room for Tywin Lannister's daughter knowing that she was the one who had spread these slanders. "I bedded no lady during our staying here, mother."

Rhaegar, turning her around, and Rhaella, caressing his cheek, said, "I know, my son. Let me sort this out. But you must speak to the girl and sort things with her."

“I will, but anyway it doesn’t matter for the future. She will marry some ambitious Lord, while I will marry Tywin Lannister’s daughter,” he said, before moving away, heading straight towards Monford Velaryon and Ser Alton Celtigar before she had the chance to contradict him.

She glanced at her husband, seeing him speak with a Lord in that moment, and taking the chance of this his distraction, she headed straight to Tywin Lannister’s daughter. She will speak with the girl and put her in her place, even though she knew she should be more patient and wiser in this. However, she stopped at hearing the door open again, hoping it’s the Stark girl, but it wasn’t her. It was Lord Stark with Jon Arryn and Prince Oberyn Martell.

She sighed, looking down for a moment, before resuming her walk towards the Lannister Girl, however, she was stopped by Ser Barristan, “Beg your pardon, my queen, but the King requests your presence,” and she glanced at Aerys, seeing him look at her with furrowed eyebrows and intertwined fingers. She looked at the Cersei Lannister one last time, before heading to the great table where the King was sitting.

“Your grace. How may I help you?”

"What did you have to talk to our son about?"

"Nothing. He just put me aware regarding some rumors that someone had spread around," she replied half truthfully.

"From how much you've talked, I'd say it's a lot more than that," he said, leaning forward. "I suggest you tell me everything if you don't want to suffer the consequences of your lies."

Rhaella leaning against the table and looking him straight in the eye, said, "You are breaking the agreement made with this attitude of yours, your grace." Glancing at the lords and ladies, she added, "Remember that this place is full of snakes and I am your only ally. Do not try to subject me with your little threatening games. I am no longer the helpless little girl of a few years ago that you were able to abuse. I am a woman, your queen, and your wife."

With Aerys' furious stare upon her, Rhaella rounded the table and sat in her seat, taking a sip of wine from her goblet, and feeling her hand tremble. She glanced at him again to see if he noticed that she was indeed afraid of him, but fortunately, he wasn't looking at her, at her, however, Rhaella heard him mumble angrily, “Where in the Seven Hells is the damn girl!” she started to fear that he may lose his temper and destroy whatever he was planning against the lords.

However, the Great doors opened, and the crowd started to murmur, while the northern Lord started to cheer for their Lady who was the Queen of Love and beauty. Rhaella looked at the young girl, who was almost sixteen, wearing a grey and shinning blue silk dress, her hairs were combed with some losing strands on the sided braided. On her tope, there was the crown of Winter Rosses.

Rhaella glanced at her son for a moment, seeing him with an enthralled expression as he was looking at the girl, while Lyanna stark displayed a serious and impassive expression, and not even once she looked at Rhaegar.

* * *

She was so beautiful in that moment. Innocent like a maiden, but wild like a wolf. The crown with blue flowers really suited her, matching the dress that she was wearing and the grey steel in her eyes. Drinking all the content of his goblet with arbor wine, and fixing the dress he was wearing, Rhaegar headed straight toward the girl that haunts his mind since the beginning of this tourney.

Lyanna stark stopped too in front of him. Hands clasped in front of her belly, with some ladies of the North right behind her. She was looking at him, with an inexpressive face, however, he knew that if they were alone, she would be barking at him.

“Musicians. Dancing music for the champion of the tourney, and his Queen of Love and beauty,” he heard his father say, breaking his attention from Lyanna and hearing the musicians start to play.

“My lady,” he said, bowing, before taking her hand, and after giving a light kiss, they started to dance, slowly at the rhythm of the music, and he could feel how much tensed she was at staying so close to him and even never looking at him, always trying to avoid his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Lyanna. But I don’t see you as my whore. No matter what they think,” he said, but the girl didn’t reply, as she keeps dancing.

The moment the playing song ended, she said, “Excuse me, Prince Rhaegar,” giving a courtesy, and heading toward the table where Eddard, Lady Ashara, and Benjen Stark were sitting, while stayed that way for a moment, before heading towards the great table, as the lords and ladies started to

* * *

After this dance between the champion and the Queen of Love and Beauty, Rhaella looked at the reaction of the ladies who were there seeing jealousy and envy from them, but above them, all was Cersei Lannister, who from the moment the young Stark set foot in the hall of a hundred hearts, never stop glaring at the wolf girl.

When her son sat next to her, Rhaella leaning said, “I didn’t have the chance to speak with Cersei Lannister, but-“

“Doesn’t matter, mother. He will announce it soon,” her son said, nodding at Aerys, who was whispering some evilness to Viserys sitting next to him. “So, doesn’t matter what Lady Cersei spread.”

Rhaella glancing at her husband again, to make sure that he wasn’t listening, whispered to her son, “You will not marry Cersei Lannister but the one your heart desires.”

“What do you mean?” he asked confused, but she didn’t get the chance to reply, as the chair of the king moved, and she saw with the corner of her eyes, her husband gets up, as the hall fell silent and everyone turned to the high table.

“My Lords and Ladies. Now that the tourney is over and before everyone returns to their lands, I must reveal to you the reason behind it. In addition to celebrating the victory and extinction of House Blackfire, I have gathered you all here to inform you of the joyous news that a royal wedding will take place before the end of this year." And everyone of them started to murmur between themselves, arising an almost chaos.

“Silence!” shouted the Lord Commander when her husband raised his hand to quite the presents, while she settled her attention on Lyanna Stark and see her reaction about the marriage.

“But before I announce you the name of the lucky lady who one day will become Queen consort of the Seven Kingdoms, I have more different thing to announce,” he said, stopping to take a sip of wine, and clearing his throat, continued. “Ser Lyn Corbray and Ser Alliser Thorne. Step forward.” And she saw the two knights approach the great table and kneel. One was young, thin, and with long brown hairs that reached the shoulders. While the other one was a slim and sinewy man, dry and hard, with black eyes and black hair.

“From this day you are members of the Kingsguard,” Aerys said, as the Lord Commander bestowed on their shoulders the white cloaks.

“Thank you, Your Grace, for this great honour. From this day until the end of our days, we swear allegiance to you and to House Targaryen," the two knights said at the same moment.

“Then arise, knights of the Kingsguard,” Aerys said, and the two knights rose up under the cheers of some of the lords who were present there.

“Beside this. I name Benjen of House Stark squire of Ser Arthur Dayne, who will though him how to be a knight and in the future a member of the Kingsguard; Lorde Eddard Stark and Lord Mace Tyrell, respectively Maester of Law and Maester of the Coin,” and Rhaella saw the stunned face of the young man who glanced at his father, not knowing how to react, while Mace Tyrell, as ambitious as he was, had a smug on his face. “I also demand the marriage between Brandon Stark and Princess Elia Martell to happen within a month and-“ He couldn’t finish as the hall erupted in chaos, with the lords starting to chat between them and Lord Stark with Prince Oberyn opposing the King.

“Silence!” roared the Lord Commander, followed immediately by a loud thunder that made them all shut their mouths and looked towards the great table, as the wind arises, blowing off some candles giving the hall a dark and gloomy air, and even making her skin shiver.

She glanced at Aerys, seeing him look with furrowed eyes at all of them, before settling his attention on Lord stark, who seemed quite terrified by the sight of the king glaring at him.

“Now that is settled, it’s time to announce the name of the lucky lady. Son, step forward,” Aerys said, changing immediately the subject of the announcements, and she saw Rhaegar get up, round the table, and head to the middle of the upper hall. “Lyanna of House Stark. Step forward.”

And Rhaella looked towards the girl in question as did everyone in there, while Lord Stark was breathing fast trying to keep his anger at bay it seems. “Lyanna Stark, step forward!” Aerys rose his voice, making the girl jump and immediately approach the great table, with an expression of fear.

“Ah…here is she,” Aerys said, grinning, and pointing his hand at the girl. “My lords and ladies. I present you the future Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms. Lady Lyanna of House Stark. She will marry my son, Prince Rhaegar in two moons from now, in the Sept of Baelor.”

Silence. Silence was what ruled the hall in that moment with all the Lords, Ladies, and Knights stunned by the King’s decision.

Rhaella glanced between his son and the girl, seeing her shake the head before someone started to clap, and everyone followed right behind. The Dragonkeepers were banging their spears on the floor, and the Kingsguard the fist on their armour.

Rhaegar took the girl’s hand, kissing her hand before turning to the others who were there, while Lord Stark was fuming in rage.

As soon as they broke the contact, she saw the girl run away, while Aerys said, “Now you can continue feasting, but I and my queen, we are retiring for the night.

“What game are you playing, brother?” she asked, grabbing his hand, when he tried to leave, confused why he didn’t reveal.

“My game,” he replied, getting up. Grabbing her chin, he said, “Come to my chambers and do your duty.”

“But-“

“When you will come we will speak,” he said, leaving the hall, as her son, rushed towards her, and leaning against the table, with an angry expression, asked, “Is this your doing, mother? Or did he do it with his own head?”

“It’s his doing and my doing, son. But you should be happy. After all, this is what your heart desired.”

“My heart desired her, but not like this,” he hissed the words angrily. “Before she was angry, but bore with me. Now she is furious and hated me.”

“She will come to sense,” she said, getting up. “Viserys. Come.” She added taking her younger son’s hand and leaving the hall, despite his protests on wanting to stay a bit longer at the feast. She needs to put him to bed and then go to Aerys’ room and demand answers at every cost.


End file.
